Faster than sorrow

When I was nine years old, I fell in love for the first time.
This was when I was riding pillion behind my father's broad back on his 250ccm MZ, and at the red light next to us stopped a slender, black, elegant motorbike which made a deep, throaty "blop-blop - blop-blop" instead of "eng-degedeng-degedenng" like the MZ did. From that day, I dreamed of riding that motorbike just to feel the shuddering vibrations this sound made for myself.
They say be careful for what you wish, you might be granted it. I was. And boy, did I love her, my beautyful,skittish Yamaha SR 500 bitch. She had a kickstart which was really tricky for me since I had only about 120 pounds on me.The lever had to be brought down with maximum momentum at just the right speed and angle for the engine to catch without the whole contraption toppling over. She had a fickle gas and tended to die at red lights when I forgot to play with the throttle. But she VIBRATED and her sound BOOMED. She got opened up at some point, giving her 50 ps which is quite the guts for a bike of roughly 340 pounds plus rider, and she was lithe and nimble - not a single traffic jam for me anymore, I skidded right through those even the big bikes got stuck in.
Over time it was exactly the thing I loved most about her that did her in, though. The vibrations loosened parts, and I got fed up cleaning up winkers, mirrors, screws and bolts behind me. I lost my left hind flash in the middle of Autobahn once and couldn't replace it with the original parts not produced anymore. And she was slow, even at 50 ps, and my spine which stopped to be so young as it used to be suffered seriously during longer rides.
Well, just like real life, I suppose. I came across a younger, heartier version of my dear old lady, and since I couldn't afford two bikes, my spinster got replaced. The Yamaha 600 Fazer became my bonnie lass, a big-bosomed wench, eager to dance and strong enough to pull her parts.
She's the one which now takes me away faster than sorrow and faster than pain.