So, I'm contemplating selling "Big Boy", my Harley.
I know that might come as a shock to some of you who have been reading me for any period of time.
Dallas and I hardly rode this summer. I'm sure it could be attributed to the oppressive heat but at the end of the day, my beloved motorcycle sat, collecting dust, for most of this past year. I feel crappy about that. I love that bike. It should be ridden.
My Harley represents so much more to me than just another toy to fool with on the weekends. I remember back three years ago about this time. Dallas and I were clearly smitten with each other but the relationship was littered with obstacles on both sides that needed resolution before we were able to move forward. One Sunday in late August, we went for a ride on his bike and somehow, I knew our time together was nearing an end. We stopped for lunch in Eureka Springs and the conversation drifted to our relationship.
"You're everything I asked the universe to bring me," he said. While I believed him and knew that he was being nakedly honest, I was also keenly aware that there was a "but" to that statement, even if he didn't. We finished our lunch and on the way home, from the back of his bike, I realized just how much I would miss the unique freedom that a motorcycle provided.
Two days later, Dallas and I split up.
A week later, I had signed up for a course to learn how to ride.
A month later, I passed the course and bought my first Harley.
To me, Big Boy represented fierce independence. It was on this motorcycle with senses heightened, sun on my face, wind whistling in my ears, that I experienced peace for the first time in a decade. On a winding road with nothing but the rumble of the pipes for company, I felt the kind of joy that erupts unexpectedly; the kind where you suck in the air, smile wide and thank God you're alive. My Harley was my salvation.
So, why sell something that is so meaningful to me? Well, things have changed. I'm now married to the man who inspired me to learn how to ride and the truth is, we just don't get out there all that often anymore. Our priorities have shifted. I don't think we feel the need to escape our lives in quite the way we used to. Things have settled. These days, our leisure time tends to be filled with the pursuit of physical activity and outings with the kids.
This month, we are committed to ride with friends to Hot Springs on an overnight road trip. Dallas and I will savour every second of this getaway with the knowledge that it will likely be our last as Harley owners, at least for now.
For me, saying goodbye to Big Boy is as bittersweet as relinquishing my home to tenants. Both events turn that last page on a remarkable chapter of my life and now, as a woman who is whole and who has nothing left to prove, I am eager to see what the future will bring.
