I have had a love/hate relationship with motorcycles all of my life.
When I was in 4th grade (ish), my dad got a motorcycle.
At first, I was timid. I didn't think it was something that looked like fun.
I gave it a try. LOVED it.
One day, I got off the bike on the wrong side. I could hear something sizzling and smell something burning...
that would be my leg. To this day, I have a softball size scar on the inside of my right lower leg.
So needless to say, motorcycles and I were on bad terms for a loooong time.
Then I met this boy in college. Who was sweet, and funny, and charming, annnndd had a motorcycle.
I refused. There was no way he would get me on his bike, or as they call them "crotch rocket".
Well, that lasted all of a few months.
Once again, I am hooked.
There is no way to explain how calming and freeing it is. Like, yes it's dangerous, but so is riding in a car.
So for now, I love them once again.
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