I’m in love, but I’m not going to lie — our relationship is rocky. There are days I sit at my desk and think of how I’d so much rather be with my honey — off at the park, in the mountains, doing anything else but sitting still.
And then there are the days that I wish I’d never see this latest sweetheart again. It’s an abusive relationship, without a doubt.
Ruby is like any other stereotypical red headed tempest. She loves me one moment, whispering sweet nothings in my ear about long, beautiful rides through the countryside. She cradles me — holds me lovingly. But without a doubt, as soon as I’m 30 minutes away from home and the ride is just starting to get my heart truly pumping, I hear her wicked laugh. Flying monkeys soar above me, taunting me at each turn.
I’ll get you my pretty, and your little tush too!
Her loving embrace turns into a grasp from hell. She beats my legs into submission, sending fiery pain from my feet to my hips as I pedal with sheer determination not to let her see me cry, yet again. My body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt. My shoulders tense with each bump in the road. My stomach lurches at the sight of sand on the path ahead. I need courage, heart and a brain to survive my dates with Ruby.
Oh Ruby, how you’ve tricked me again. You make me yearn for my other loves — the twins:
New and Balance. (There is no place like home. No place like I home!) and my slinky Italian lover, Speedo.
They never abused me this way. And yet, like a Lifetime Movie starlet who never learns the lesson, I cannot wait for our next tryst. It’s a wicked love.
~K