Alive - The Story of 155

This is what didn't happen... I didn't die. The adrenaline pumping through my system was telling me that dying was highly possible, and at those speeds, it was right.

                I had never gone that fast in my life, not even in a car. And a car has four wheels and doors and seatbelts. That bullet bike was barely big enough to fit both of us on it and the only protection I had was the helmet on my head and the riding jacket I was wearing, which didn’t feel like much at all in the moment.

            I knew he was doing it to get exactly this reaction. He wanted to feel me cling tighter to him when he sped up. He wanted me to hang onto him for dear life, literally. But I know he wouldn't have been doing it if I hadn’t been enjoying it.

                It was a hell of a first date. I hadn't been on a date in years. Since my junior year of high school, I'd been with pretty much two guys and neither of them ever really took me out on dates. Yeah, I really know how to pick 'em. But after meeting Justin for the first time for lunch earlier that day, there I was, placing my life in his hands as he rode it like a maniac to impress me. Here's the really annoying part: it worked.

                He was charming at lunch, paying for my food and pulling out my chair like a gentleman and actually managing to carry on intelligent and humorous conversation with me. It didn't help that he was he was pretty freaking attractive, despite his scrawny figure. I don't normally like scrawny guys, but between his charming smile and effortless wit, I found myself looking past that detail. Well, the bright green, sleek bike helped his cause, too.

                The ride to the shooting range was fairly mellow. Yeah, he'd take off faster than was strictly necessary in order to get me to hang on a little tighter, but he didn't do anything crazy, even on the freeway. I had fun hanging on to him while got an idea for how comfortable I was on the bike and how adventurous I was. Every time I laughed, I was encouraging him, even if I didn’t mean to.

             I’m no novice to guns. Even if I'm not personally a fan of them, my family is and thus, I've been taught how to shoot. I'm actually pretty good aim with a rifle and a shotgun but I have always been awful with a handgun. Somehow, this random guy managed to fix that in only an hour on the range. I still don't like guns. But now at least I know I can aim them all. Zombie apocalypse, here I come.

                The ride back from the shooting range was when it got interesting. He knew me a little better now, knew my limits, knew what I was willing to allow. We didn’t talk about it, but he could read me like a book. I don’t normally let people see my emotions, but something about this blue-eyed, motorcycle-riding bad ass got to me. Even if I didn’t mean to, I let him read.

            Now you have to understand, I own my own motorcycle and have been riding on the back of them for a good portion of my life. But never in my 25 years had I met someone who could handle a bike the way this 26 year old kid could, and I know a riding instructor.

            When he starting weaving so much that my knees were almost touching the ground, I was impressed. When he stood up while we were still riding down the street at 30 miles per hour, I was amazed. And when he took that bike up to 155 miles per hour, I was alive.

            I had to wrap my arms around him so tight, I felt like we were one person. The wind was gushing so hard around me, I both felt like I couldn’t move, and felt like I was going to be pulled off of the back at the same time. There was nothing visible around me, the trees and the lines on the road were the first strokes on a canvas before the painter even knows what the picture will be. Nothing in the world existed but Justin, me, and the machine that was hurling us down a path to life that could never be turned back on.

                For the first time in a long time, I felt truly alive. I put my delicate life in someone else's hands and felt that I was truly feeling that life for myself for the first time in years. I'd been on the edges of life, surviving but never living, until that moment. As I felt that bike speed up and watched the numbers rise, I knew what being truly alive felt like and I didn't want to let it go. The moment lasted longer than I thought possible but ended before I was done experiencing it. That moment changed me.

            When he finally took me back to my car, neither one of us wanted to leave. There was a connection there that I wasn't sure I'd ever let myself feel with someone again. We leaned against my car while the green neons under his bike lit the deserted parking lot. We talked. We touched. And when he kissed me, I was surprised neither of us caught fire. The chemistry between us was tangible. Whether we were talking or just staring at the stars slowly appearing above us, there was always some part of us that was touching. We couldn't help it, it was like gravity.

            I didn't have to wait to be near him. Only the next day, he begged to come see me again. I invited him to my apartment and we watched Mary Poppins while we both sang along to the first half, laughing together, and paid absolutely no attention to the last half as we got lost in each other.

                I didn't sleep with him that night. I told myself that despite every part of my body saying it was a good idea, the rational side of my brain was screaming to think about what I was doing and to stop losing myself in the feelings. I still barely knew this guy.

                Only a few days later, the chemistry won.

                Within a few weeks, he was gone.

                I can't bring myself to regret the few weeks I spent with Justin. Yeah, he turned out to be just like every other ass hole that I've ever been involved with. Yeah, he walked away from me without a backward glance, which sealed my decision to stop dating until I was out of college. Yeah, he risked my life a few times. But he was exactly what I needed when I met him.

                I was so caught up in surviving, I'd forgotten how to live. Justin reminded me how important living is. It's called life, not survival. He never knew the side of me that was broken, because I'd never allowed him in that far. He never knew why I wouldn't let him in. And perhaps that's why he walked away. But it's okay. Because Justin taught me that when life is about survival, the pain is what matters, but when life is about forgetting the pain and living, it's amazing how much more there is to feel.