letter 3

So I met a guy on a Suzuki (by met, I mean he flew by me and waved) hauling ass on the way to ______. He was splitting lanes at 100, between cars going 90. I stuck with him for a while, but in the end I let him go (I couldn't keep up). But there's something to see there, a figure on a sport bike sliding through traffic like greased lightning.

An hour or so later I hit 135 on the interstate. That's my speed record on wheels, surpassing my earlier record of 125 as a passenger in a '79 Trans Am. At this speed, the wind is pulling on your whole body, and everything is rushing towards you. It seems like my reaction time is getting better, though. Nothing blurs, it just slides into place.

138- I know that at 140 I will begin to be ripped from the bike. Without being able to tuck, this is it.

I know you guys aren't going to believe this, but just before _____ on the ____, there's a street called Zzxyzy. I didn't go down it because I was afraid of being caught in a maze of little twisty passages, all alike.

As I stood there waiting in line, I felt my neck where the necklace had been. I realized I hadn't even noticed its disappearance, probably because it's going where it should.

I love you.
And it feels just as right as it did the first time I said it to you.

I want you to know that even if that area in me is obscured, I do remember some of the things I said. And it wasn't adolescent bullshit either. I think that once I make some more connections and get a few more qualifications, I'll be able to show you exactly what I'm planning to do.