Motorcycle Diaries
Such a good movie. If you haven't seen it, go rent it.
It's 2:22 am and I can't fall asleep. I have to teach early in the morning, I wish I wasn't so restless. Deep in my mind, I see flashes of memories when I start to close my eyes. I bite my nails feverishly, uncontrollably, I thought I was over that. They looked so perfectly feminine last week. Now they express the ugliness of my altered state.
I can't stop thinking about the month of May. What a gorgeous time in my life. Magic. Dream. Pleasure of the senses. I thank him for that month.
I miss the feeling I used to get while riding on his motorcycle, how stress seemed to melt away as soon as we took off. I remember holding on so tightly to his waist, feeling the cool through my clothes like air conditioning when it wasn't even summer yet. We had no doubts, no expectation, just lived for those moments of adventure and impulsiveness.
The freedom I felt inside, my thoughts had no beginning and no end, I just focused on the road ahead, on the speed, on the curves, on HIM. Trusting him completely to guide the way safely. My hair smelled like gasoline from the exhaust and his skin tasted like the leather from his jacket. I loved being so close but only being able to communicate the happiness I felt through my hands. Gently tugging oh his long tousled hair peeking under his helmet, massaging his back and tickling him while stopped at a light, even putting us in danger when I played with his nipples while in motion (hm hm). How did we lose that trust? I miss it. It was too perfect. No words needed, it was simply natural.
Riding with him took me places I will cherish in my heart forever. Brooklyn bridge at night. Fireworks at the Pier. A whopping 125mph on Route 280 in New Jersey, what a rush! Memorial Day at Long Beach, NY. Summer storm through the streets of Manhattan. Rowing little boats in Central Park. Downtown to "Azul" to eat chimichuri. That lounge with no name where we were the only people in the audience, we drank a bottle of red wine while watching the cool guy from New Orleans play the exotic country guitar. Endless memories flash constantly.
I don't want to forget that we were once beautiful and more in tune with each other than the moon is with the tide.
The smoothness of the motorcycle, the constant low vibration I felt on my seat, the heat that permeated from his body and from the asphalt reminds me of our dancing, of our sex. Our chemistry unmatched. I don't have to explain why. I just do not, ever, want to forget how powerful my love for him once was.
I give into my eternal memories of the month of May, a month of living a dream in complete bliss.
I hope he treasures it as much as I do.
It's 2:22 am and I can't fall asleep. I have to teach early in the morning, I wish I wasn't so restless. Deep in my mind, I see flashes of memories when I start to close my eyes. I bite my nails feverishly, uncontrollably, I thought I was over that. They looked so perfectly feminine last week. Now they express the ugliness of my altered state.
I can't stop thinking about the month of May. What a gorgeous time in my life. Magic. Dream. Pleasure of the senses. I thank him for that month.
I miss the feeling I used to get while riding on his motorcycle, how stress seemed to melt away as soon as we took off. I remember holding on so tightly to his waist, feeling the cool through my clothes like air conditioning when it wasn't even summer yet. We had no doubts, no expectation, just lived for those moments of adventure and impulsiveness.
The freedom I felt inside, my thoughts had no beginning and no end, I just focused on the road ahead, on the speed, on the curves, on HIM. Trusting him completely to guide the way safely. My hair smelled like gasoline from the exhaust and his skin tasted like the leather from his jacket. I loved being so close but only being able to communicate the happiness I felt through my hands. Gently tugging oh his long tousled hair peeking under his helmet, massaging his back and tickling him while stopped at a light, even putting us in danger when I played with his nipples while in motion (hm hm). How did we lose that trust? I miss it. It was too perfect. No words needed, it was simply natural.
Riding with him took me places I will cherish in my heart forever. Brooklyn bridge at night. Fireworks at the Pier. A whopping 125mph on Route 280 in New Jersey, what a rush! Memorial Day at Long Beach, NY. Summer storm through the streets of Manhattan. Rowing little boats in Central Park. Downtown to "Azul" to eat chimichuri. That lounge with no name where we were the only people in the audience, we drank a bottle of red wine while watching the cool guy from New Orleans play the exotic country guitar. Endless memories flash constantly.
I don't want to forget that we were once beautiful and more in tune with each other than the moon is with the tide.
The smoothness of the motorcycle, the constant low vibration I felt on my seat, the heat that permeated from his body and from the asphalt reminds me of our dancing, of our sex. Our chemistry unmatched. I don't have to explain why. I just do not, ever, want to forget how powerful my love for him once was.
I give into my eternal memories of the month of May, a month of living a dream in complete bliss.
I hope he treasures it as much as I do.
posted by Adriana at 11:18 PM
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