The Motorcycle Riders

This past Saturday evening, I attended a birthday dinner for a good friend. I was surrounded by other good friends that I've met recently. We had great food, laughed, and talked about our weeks, our jobs, and families.
Afterwards, I sat in a local coffee shop for a few minutes so that I could get some reading done. I left as the sun was setting and drove north on my way home. As I sat in the inside lane, a motorcycle pulled up next to me in the turning lane. The rider had a female companion riding behind him with her arms wrapped around his chest. I thought about the two of them as I noticed everything about their situation - the way her long brown hair looked as it flowed from her helmet, his Puma shoes, the chrome on the Harley Davidson logo, and her tanned legs and ballerina slippers.
 I was a bit envious of their closeness and what they must be sharing with each other. I wondered what they were talking about and experiencing. What struck me, was that they were possibly experiencing the same evening and moment that I was. The air was warm that evening. The sun was setting, but was still above the treeline and made the empty lot and trees surrounding it sparkle.
It was beautiful; I was at peace and no longer envious.

Holy shit. Well. Divorced, co-parenting, sane, calm, heartbroken, sober, somewhat comfortable. And moving on. I have a cat and a roommate. I look back on the last two years and see what a clusterfuck they were, yet I'm still here and I'm okay.

One day, I will find the creator of this heartwarming little picture and set him or her on fire.