They say that all relationships are meant to end. Those who are still going strong, well, they just haven't hit the bump that would send that helmet-less biker hurtling to the ground head first.
Of course you get into a relationship wishing, hoping that this time would be it. That this would last. That this would be the love that you read in romance novels, the kind you watch in movies. The "I'm so in love I'm willing to compromise on your behalf and you on mine." kind of love. But that doesn't happen too often. And breakups are inevitable in some cases.
Breakups aren't much fun. But what sucks the most about breakups isn't the time when you cried yourself to sleep after yet another pointless row; nope, not the time when you found out your partner slept with your best buddy; hell, it's not even the time you were fuming mad that you drank beyond your alcohol tolerance and woozily tried to break his windshield with your heels.
It's the "Getting Over You" phase that's the worst part of breakups. It's the week at the ICU after the crash. The week when you're at your most vulnerable, the time when you're most susceptible to do foolish things. And no matter whether you're the dumper or the dumpee, there's still that phase where you think about your moments together. The great times, the not so great times, and even the horrible times. And during weaker nights, you find the urge to just find him and say you've made the wrong decision. There are also moments of longing and hoping that you could still work things out. Letting go of someone who was dear to your heart at one point or another is not as easy as, say, throwing away a used square of tissue.
But even though you go through hell and back after a breakup, the mere thrill of riding without a helmet, feeling the wind against your face blowing your hair in all directions, revving the engine, hearing it roar to life, all that, it just makes you want to get on that Harley again, riding with reckless abandon. Until the next bump.