All I needed today was to get off my ass and skate. It took until ten o’clock at night to do it. Shuffling past all the laundry there is no motivation to fold, I step into the bathroom. My face gets scrutinized in the mirror the way it always does. Gaze drifting across the stray brow hairs usually plucked one by one, over the irritated red bump picked at absentmindedly. After moving up the chin, noting the growing freckles on my lips, my eyes settle below my nose. I remember my new plugs and nose ring were delivered yesterday and they’re at the complex’s mailbox station. I want to skateboard there.

I look down at my batik house shorts and mismatched, thrice worn button up and decide to change before walking out the door. Now out of bed, I’m ambitious with my energy and just want to skateboard, period. Jeans are pulled up my legs. A Disney’s Powerline T-shirt worn the day before is dragged over head. I bend in half, lace up skate shoes.

Outside the air is cool and comfortable. If this was just a walk, long sleeves would’ve been fine. Night skating is a solitary act. The darkness helps give the impression of solitude. Streets empty. Sidewalks calm. The air smells clean and crisp, almost like after rain but it doesn’t sting your nostrils the same way. It was the same in Ohio winding down gentle slopes through Burnet Woods.

Next door to the condo complex are two churches with combined parking lots and streetlights. On the far end, the lot is smooth and clean. I’d almost forgotten what pavement feels like. Gliding easy, I make lap after lap around curbs separating parking sections. Melting into movement, remembering how it feels to clear my mind of everything but the grip against rubber soles and shifting body weight.

I feels good. Testing my body’s kinesthetic memory with manuals and ollies. I land a shuvit for the first time in years – the only trick I ever really had. You know that saying? It’s just like riding a bike? This is nothing like that. This has nothing to do with picking up a skateboard and simply being able to ride.  I’m falling in love again. And this time, I’ll try not to be fickle.