The Last Ride

You are of that masculine biking breed. Eat. Ride. Breathe. Lance. Sleep. Bike. Sex. Pedal. We used to call Lance your boyfriend. You liked my innocent teasing about the bike. Your committment and love for it was something I respected. Admired even. If only you could have projected those feelings on to me. When I saw this film advertised earlier this week, I really wanted to email you. It’s the first time I really felt like contacting you for months. You’d call me or write me a sarcastic email in return. We’d be at our respective computers butterflies in stomach, smile spreading with just seeing the others email address in the “IN” box. I miss sharing goofy things with you. Things that would make you smile. Suddenly I miss you, talking about the bike.  

 

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