Handlebars

By darkmosmordreheart


Prologue

Just because you can, does that mean you should?

I can ride my bike with no handlebars,

No handlebars,

No handlebars . . .

I can ride my bike with no handlebars,

No handlebars,

No handlebars . . .

That was his favorite song. He found it . . . hell, I dunno where he found it; I just know he tormented me with it for weeks on end. It was the most played on his iPod, always on repeat, forever hummed under his breath.

It was complex and simple at the same time. The beat was easy to follow, melodic . . . almost cute. And the message . . . so political, but I don't really think that's why it attracted him so. I mean, I had to remind him to vote in the goddamn primaries, what the fuck did he care about politics?

But it was the song . . . perhaps the first three lines of it that obsessed him so. I'm listening to it now. They are so simple . . . a phrase you would say to your friends when you all were ten and racing through the park under no parental supervision. A time when there was absolutely no way you could get caught doing something you knew was risky. Of course, you had no helmet so the "Look Mom, no hands!" trick was a feat . . .

No handlebars . . .

He was always one to take those sort of risks. He was fearless in that sense, doing things that people told him not to do and not thinking, or caring, about the consequences.

I can ride my bike . . .

He tried so hard not to seem weak. He ached to be strong, to . . . make up for what he felt was his mistake, but . . . I constantly had to tell him that breathing was not his mistake. He was not at fault for surviving. It was out of his hands . . . Everything was, but he tended to ache to gain the grip of things. He always wanted to be grounded, to understand, to bring everything into his power. He didn't like to be out of control. He felt it was a weakness.

No handlebars,

No handlebars . . .

I know I didn't pay as much attention to his problems as I should have. He was going through some things, but I was too and . . . the things he was going through . . . He was always going through the same exact thing. He always had the same problem. In my selfishness, I wanted him to solve it himself, without any input from me, but . . . I was a fool.

He got caught up in his problem and in me . . . I ruined him and he didn't even realize it was me. What we were doing . . . it was so wrong . . . so wrong . . . and I saw it, but I ignored it.

I see now that the song was like a confession of our sins to him. The risk we take, even though we really shouldn't take it. This song was guilt to him.

I can ride my bike with no handlebars,

No handlebars,

No handlebars . . .

You can ride your bike with no handlebars; big fucking whoop, but can you walk into a room and find your lover dead on the floor?

I couldn't.


Author's Note: Just in case you were wondering, the song is called Handlebars by the Flobots. It was super addictive to me. -DMH