It’s late (for me, not the rest of the world), so I’m blogging with my thumbs from bed.
The weekend has gone by so fast and all the words I mean to share flit off into the yonder.
I ran yesterday – my longest distance and best time and I think it’s mostly because I kept telling myself ‘Ryan would keep going’ ‘Ryan wouldn’t quit’. And if you had known that redheaded boy, you’d know how true it is. He was so hard-headed (stifles worst gallows humor joke) and such an unstoppable force. Which is why he died how he lived, doing everything everyone told him he couldn’t or shouldn’t.
My spirit isn’t, and can’t be, as big as his was. But it’s bigger for having known him and for having rode his motorcycle topless and for cutting class to go make out in his dorm.
I’m not that girl now and he’s gone. But damn if he doesn’t keep me going in new ways in this quieter, more complicated life.
