Steve and I are not getting a divorce.
I've had quite a few people contact me with deep concern as to my last post about our relationship. After traveling together for the last 2 1/2 years, living in hotel rooms, depending upon each other for so much, Steve and I needed a break. The circumstances under which he left were painful for me and I had a very difficult time watching him go. I had my daughter, my son-in-law and my grandson come to visit for a week which was was also stressful. So my point of view when I wrote my most recent post was a bit skewed.
Steve has been on the road for 12 days now. He contacted me after being on the road for 5 days and I think we've talked almost every day since. We're still talking about things, working things out, and trying to sort out our feelings, but we're not breaking up.
Living on the road isn't easy. We've lived in fine hotel rooms, eaten the best food, seen various landscapes, each more astounding than the last, and yet none of it has been easy. Even with money, comforts, and love, the difficulties of life creep in and tear at the fiber of our hearts. We work together, live together, socialize together and sleep together. We've done too much together and not enough alone.
Money only solves so much. And I'm sorry Beatles, but you need more than love. There are those vagabonds who say they only need the road (there was a time when I would agree with them), but even that left me weary and unfulfilled. My physical pain played a part in that road-weary state and broke down my determination and spirit. I tore at Steve in frustration, with no one else to vent my anguish towards, and wore him down too.
I'm still carrying some baggage from my past. The emotional scars have hardened parts of me that simply will never heal, so they must be managed. It was brutal for me to learn that I can never fully heal this road rash from the crashes of my life, destined to live with these scars forever.
Steve carries his own baggage from his past. It is heavy now and he's working to unburden himself. But this has become a painful process for both of us.
Taking different roads was important for our survival. I became a little lost during my solo travel. I became sidetracked and angry, sullen and finally, very depressed. I spent 3 days in bed, moping and watching television, which is entirely unlike me.
Today was a different day. While talking on the phone with Steve this morning, I mustered up every bit of strength I could and at his encouragement I got out of bed and met a friend for lunch. Then I took a 60 mile ride to get a pair of kevlar jeans for riding. I bitched and moaned to Steve that it wouldn't make me feel better, but I was wrong. That asphalt, rubber, steel and sunshine did the trick. Road Therapy wins again.
I love that motorcycle. I love Steve. Yes, we hit some shitty road and I didn't have high hopes, but that was because I wasn't seeing things clearly.
Have you ever just mounted that motorcycle, ridden less than a mile, and sighed with great relief? That huge sigh that comes about when you just know that things aren't as bad as you thought?
Today I sighed that way.
Everything is going to be alright.
My book Rude Biker Chick: Lessons From My Daddy is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords. Give me your feedback on it once you've read it! I look forward to hearing from you.