I think I am going crazy, nuts, demented. This is surely a weird state of mind I am in just now. I am postponing. Procrastinating.

After having been away for a few weeks you should think the first thing I do on my return is check on my Harley. Take her out for a ride. At least start the engine and enjoy the sound.


I didn’t. I couldn’t.

The door to the garage remained closed for two days. Grey plastic separates me from my bike, an unmoved obstacle,  that and a hitherto unknown hesitation to face her.  Why don’t I?

For so many days I had missed her, thought about her, wanted her. Now she is within my reach and I do not dare to reach out. Maybe I want to prolong the pleasure, to extend the happiness that soon ….

A touch of fear might be part of it, too. Having a dream is easy. Living with it is a challenge I am not prepared to face, yet. I can feel her waiting for me. At least I think I can.

And still I procrastinate.

After two days I have finally managed to open the garage today. I had to take the car out. There she was, sitting under three crisp white bed sheets. Hidden away. Clean. Waiting.

I never looked. I took the car out and drove away. Parked it again tonight right next to her and never looked. I shirked the encounter. I am not ready, yet.

I will be on Sunday. I think.