Stalker Envy

Hi. I'm Amy and I have a confession to make.

I've been watching you, all vacation long. I see your graceful movements and long legs. The ease of your smile and the sound of your laugh. I watch as your family happily chases after you.

I see you. And I envy you.

You see, I don't know how to ride a bike. I never learned. And now I'm 35, too late in the game to spend hours scraping my knees, learning to balance on two-wheels.

But on beautiful days and lazy vacations, I wish I could join you. You make it look so fun, so relaxing, so easy.

A few years before we were married my husband and I went down to the shore together. I revealed my shameful secret to him. But he didn't believe me. "Everyone knows how to ride a bike." He said, echoing the handful of confidants before him.

Later on that day, bless his heart, he went out and rented us each a bicycle. I'm not sure why. Perhaps he thought he could be my knight in shining armor that teaches me what no other could. Or maybe he just wanted to prove himself right, that everyone knows how to ride a bike.

Whatever it was, we rode. He called out helpful tips as we went on. But I can't ride a bike. So after two blocks, he shook his head in disbelief and said we'd better walk home before I killed myself. I became an enigma.

So here I am, sweaty and hoofing it; while the world coasts around me. And in my mind I picture my 12 year old self, too embarrassed I didn't already know how to ride a bike, and never trying.