We waited long for this little ride,
You in front, and me behind,
The road ahead, the breeze so wide—
Yet something holds me back each time.
It’s not the first, we’ve ridden years,
Shared roads, the sun, the rain, our fears,
But still I pause, my heart won’t move,
To hold you close, to gently prove—
That every song, each reel I see,
I dream it's you, in front of me.
I hold you tight, so close, so deep,
You feel my soul in every beat.
But then we ride, and I sit still,
Like a stranger, against my will.
I raise my hand, then pull away,
Afraid of what you’ll think or say.
Not once you say, “Just hold me tight,”
You wait in silence, like it’s right.
And I, in silence, wish you’d ask,
To wrap you warm—that simple task.
Will you one day take my hand,
And break the wall where we both stand?
Or will this hesitation grow,
As silent winds of longing blow?
I dream of rides with no restraint,
Of laughs, of hugs without complaint,
Of holding you as hearts collide—
Addicted to our bike ride.