My Bike is my Life

It was more like a Heart blast than a brain blast, my heart whirred in anticipation just like an old machine oiled, coming back to life the instant this idea formed in my solitary mind.

An idea as crazy and as desperate as the one who conceived it: I will ride my bike to their house.

I will ride my bike, which I rarely use even after using my paltry savings to buy it, to their town, to their barangay, to their house. I will ride my bike from our house up to the prominent welcome arc a few feet away from their house marked with a distinctive number. Although my pride can never stomach me stalking anyone or even accept that I'm desperately in love with someone more than myself, I guess using my biking routine to justify this cheap shot to see her is not even beyond me at this point. I'm still madly in love and broken beyond repair. I'm still the miserable and dejected sh*t that decided almost four months ago to move the fvck forward. Nothing changed. She might have grown larger, our friendship might have atrophied to nothing and our familiarity all but gone....but still, I'm the same man who tried to understand, who tried to accept. And failed.

I will ride my bike because honestly, I want to be near her. I want to know how she is, I want to know her again. I want to see the girl that can make my heart whine crazily as she approaches or as I approach and can make my resolve dissolve like exposed ice. I want to see the friend that taught me how to love as I was teaching her how to write. I want to rekindle all that's lost, all that sh*t I've been trying to forget because I cannot forget. Because I will never forget how she made my heart race faster than the speed of light, lighting the darkest areas of my soul, bewitching my mind to include her in every dream and aspiration that I have. To build my dreams around her. To actually anticipate a future that's not only full of accomplishments, faint dreams of a nationwide revolution, of material stuff that my mind insists that I need, of being the best journalist there is...she gave me the will to actually dream of a future worth living for. A future made complete by her presence.

I will ride my bike because honestly, I want to hear her voice yet again. I want her to sing to me like she used to. I want her to whisper in my ear how much she believes in me because she knows that I can do anything, I can become anything just by willing it. All those stuff that endeared her to me and made me fall for her all the more that I just cannot forget, because I don't want to forget. I don't want to forget the way she banished my uncertainties, my self-doubts clad in a thick coating of excessive self-confidence and pride and my own feelings of inadequacy. I am more than enough for anyone. I don't have to be a please-r to be appreciated. I am not just the weird genius no one understands. That I can be loved (even if not by her). That I am still capable of loving someone. That I can love...

I will ride my bike because honestly, the future lost all its appeal. A barren future devoid of her. Because the future is not worth it anymore. Because the future is missing one major component. It is Incomplete, halved. And here I am stuck in a limbo...hesitant, afraid, conflicted...lost. Because with the future gone, there is really nothing left for me to lose. I wagered and I lost. I tried and I failed. I tried again and I was rejected. I tried for the last time and I was destroyed.

I will ride my bike because honestly, I want to see her with him. With…it. I want to see how happy they are. I want to see how life is for them: two people madly in love with each other that nothing, especially now, can ever separate them. I want to see her nod, the same gesture of approval that I secretly seek before and long for today. I want to see her smile, the same smile that sent my heart racing faster than the bike I’m riding or even faster than the snail-paced moving on process that burdens me so. I want to see her scowl, the same scowl, the same bitch-mode, that made her the snarkiest yet prettiest angel in my eyes. The sweetest succubus that transformed every moment with her into the sweetest torture in the universe. The sweet-laced pain that throbbed so bad every time I realize that she'll never be mine. And yet the same sweet-laced pain that I was so addicted inflicting on myself just for the sake of it.

I will ride my bike because honestly, I want her to completely break my heart yet again into a million pieces just like when she first told me everything. I want her to smash it to pieces, to pulverize every shard of my heart that remained. I want her to tell me that she's as happy as can be with their present relationship, that she's never been happier all her life. That her happiness depends on them being together. I want her to say to my face that I should probably look for another one because there's no chance in hell that she'll ever leave him. That they are soulmates, better halves complete at last. And that I have no place in their already complete love story.

I will ride my bike because honestly, I just want to see her. One last look that is really the last before oblivion. Before the end. One last look to keep as I pedal on the longest trail of my life. The trail leading to the end.

I will ride my bike because maybe on my way back I’ll be run over by a truck, hit by some stupid vehicle, fall on a ditch or whatever. Because honestly, I don't care anymore.

I will ride my bike because I just want her to be with me. I love her so much that it hurts every time I think about her.

I will ride my bike because my world will end on December 21, 2013 anyway. Why not make it sooner?

(stops, gazes) I'm happy as long as you are. (pedals away)