Gomennasai: Maybe One Day
I have been indulging in motorcycle porn lately. (No, nothing naughty!) Just drooling over thousands of possible new bikes. All Triumph. Hundreds of reviews and test ride videos, millions of tempting, sexy photographs of new Brit bikes!
I've always loved Triumphs.
Til Zaphod (yeah, he had a name, keep up!) went the way of old motorcycles… (OK, I never look after them properly, I'm a crap mechanic!)
Then I turned Japanese. Yamaha. Liked my new bike, but didn't love her. I secretly yearned for the lines, the grace, the outright sexiness of the British motorcycles.
Hours online, behind my Yam's back. I felt guilty looking at other, prettier bikes. Longed to dress up in leather and go for exhilarating romps. Yam never suspected, I don't think, just stayed at home, loyal, trustworthy, but a bit dull. (compared to the Brits) maybe I'd love her, one day?
Or maybe not...
This week, I made up my mind, it was over.
I took her out, pretending she needed her battery charging. Slightly guilty when we arrived at the dealers. I'd arranged to meet a younger model, gorgeous looking, full of online promises. She would be the One.
I left my Yam in the car park (bike park actually) and skulked towards the doorway to be
introduced to the beautiful young Triumph.
The Yam sat, patient and loyal, as I flitted past her, besotted with the newness of the beauty beneath me.
It was over quickly, way to soon. I was left feeling awkward, disappointed, let down. Unfulfilled.
The British beauty just wasn't up to much, looks over substance, promise over reality. She simply didn't float my boat. Not like Zaphod or his predecessors. They'd changed, or maybe I had.
Blinded by the temptation of the new and thrilling, I'd forgotten what a beautiful thing I had with Yam. She was everything I needed, but had always been second best in my heart.
We rode home, thrilling to the sheer joy of familiarity, I revelled in the way she responded beneath me, shocked myself at how exciting she felt, how well we fitted together.
Sometimes we cannot see what is in plain sight, get blinded by the promise of a new forest to explore.
Today I learned to look at a single tree. My Yam. A beautiful creature living within a forest of memories.
Special. Unique. Mine. Sexy even.
Perfect. (for now…Gomennasai.)