Breaking Cycles

Chapter 1

Grant

I don't even know where I'm going anymore, but when someone tries to push too far into my life, I just can't stay. Something in me urges me to leave, to run, to escape. I don't know how to do anything else anymore. It's been years since I've been close to anyone. I huff a laugh knowing it's been years since I've allowed anyone in. Even my family doesn't know where to find me. I haven't talked to any of them in over ten years. I don't know what I'd do if they did find me. Maybe that's part of the reason I can't stay.

Leaving is inevitable. I no longer have a place I can call home. I won't even admit where I'm from. I let it slip once when I'd been feeling especially nostalgic around the holidays. She started digging, thinking she could help me. That was her one mistake. No one can help me. I left the moment she fell asleep without once looking back and no regrets.

Now I'm certain where to draw the line. I make sure to spend certain days alone, days I know will have an impact on me. I know the kinds of women to stay away from and I make sure to always control my situation when it comes to women. I'm very careful about the women I spend my time with; she's never someone older than me, or underage for that matter, she's never the sweet girl next door, she's never one looking for something serious, nor someone who wants a husband and kids some day, she's never someone I work for, nor someone who asks a lot of questions. I'm not a challenge or a game to be won. It doesn't matter who you are, I will disappear if you push me. She needs to know upfront it will never be more than a physical release for me. I do have needs. I've just learned never to depend on anyone and I don't want anyone to depend on me. I can't be that man. Anyone who has ever relied on me has only ended up disappointed. I can't let that happen ever again.

I usually find work at a local garage, a place where I don't have to do anything but my job. I love getting lost in my work and working on bikes is my specialty. It's the one thing in life I still have that hasn't been tarnished and without it, I honestly don't know if I'd survive. Some people claim that's an empty existence, but when I'm working on or riding a bike, it's the one time I feel free. In those moments I'm free of all the ties threatening to tear me down, I'm free to be me without judgement or consequence, whoever that might be.

This time as I ride my motorcycle, watching the sunrise over the horizon, I see the deep blue of the ocean, the bright white of the waves cresting and the pale brown sand on the beach coming into view. Taking a deep breath, as the wind whips against my face, I veer north for the first time in years. Maybe I'll find a coastal town to settle in for a while this time, but I have to be far enough away from the town I vacated in Alabama first. About midmorning I cross the border into North Carolina as dark clouds swiftly consume the sky. The wind picks up and rain begins to fall. I should've checked the weather before I left last night, which reminds me, I'll have to pick up a new phone. I'm grateful for my faded jeans and simple black leather jacket, but it won't do me much good if this weather picks up.

It's not long before the roads become slick, the rain falls harder and steadier and the wind gusts throw me off-balance, nearly knocking me over. I need to find a place to wait out the storm and fast. My vision starts to diminish just as I see an exit up ahead and I almost sigh in relief. I slow and lean into the turn just as a huge gust of wind hits me from the other side. I struggle to regain my balance and the wind whirls again, pushing me past the point of no return. My breath catches in my throat and my heart stops, panic setting in. I desperately battle to streamline my bike, knowing I won't be able to compensate.

Feeling as if time slows down, I prepare for the inevitable, bracing for impact. The moment the first part of me collides with the ground, the air rushes from my lungs. A deafening bang followed by a high-pitched screeching rings in my ears. My right leg hits first, my bike crushing it, followed by my side and shoulder. Finally, my head bounces like a rag doll, my helmet cracking against the pavement on impact. As my bike begins skidding across the road, dragging my body along for the ride, my mind races, attempting to catch-up to reality. My bike skitters away from me as my body slows, finally coming to a stop. My eyes widen, barely aware of my surroundings as I struggle to breathe. I feel myself losing consciousness.