Scars

I have a scar. It's one of many, but it's probably my biggest and most imposing scar. It's a scar from a bike, where it burned me. There's an interesting story behind that scar: I knew a boy who owned a bike. He was not the first boy I met, nor the first one with a bike. I had known and befriended bikers before, allowing them to take me with them, on their rides, but I never went as far or as fast as I did with this particular boy. Somehow, his bike seemed cooler than the rest, even though it was nowhere close to it. At first I was hesitant. What if I fell? We didn't have helmets, he rode way too fast and recklessly, and I was scared. But he slowly managed to convince me that there was nothing to be scared of. I actually began to enjoy the rides. I enjoyed myself so much, that I didn't even notice it when I got burned by the bike. Even when I did, it seemed like an amusing incident that I could later tell my friends about.

Now, the burn has left a deep, dark scar. I used to want the scar gone, and I kept thinking of ways to hide it, or how I could get rid of it. The years have passed, and I still have that scar. It reminds me of a different time, a different person. I still ride on bikes with boys, occasionally. Sometimes they go fast too - but only if I'm okay with it. I look at my scar, and I can see what it meant for me, for the person I would become after that. The scar is a part of my history - my story.

Since then, I have also acquired more scars. Why, just last night, I burnt myself on another boy's bike. It's a small scar, in size, but it's deep. Hopefully a few years will pass, and I'll look back on it the way I look back on the first one. Today, though, it hurts.

My scars have defined me for years, and will continue to do so, but I have learnt not to play with fire. Or boys on bikes. :)