The reason I miss my bike is not because I loved to go fast, or hear the whirl of the engine, or feel the wind across my arms. No, that's not why I miss my bike.
I don't miss my bike because as I pulled up to stoplights and people looked at me, they wished they were on the back of that bike. They wished they were the one sitting on this blue beast of a vehicle. No, that's not why I miss my bike.
I don't miss my bike because it was taken from me so fast. The fact that I bought it on the 5th, registered it on the 12th, and was victim of a hit and run on the 31st. No, that's not why I miss my bike.
I don't miss my bike because I had put a few hundred extra dollars into the body or the engine. So that my repairs would make it that much better looking, or run that much smoother. No, that's not why I miss my bike.
I miss my bike because I no longer have the freedom I had before. I'm not able to get on the bike and just ride. Not to go to any particular destination, or to see any particular sights. Not to get to work or come home... but the freedom. The fact I could do any of those things, or none of them. The fact that I if I wanted to... I could ride, just to ride, and for no other reason at all.
That is exactly why I miss my bike.
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