It's 10:00. My race clothes are laying across the top of the dog crate. I've already consumed my all-natural sleep aid. The alarm is set for 4:45 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but my mind is spinning at an unnatural rate.
Remember this poem?
The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know.
I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me.
I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be stirred. Poetic language bubbled up from within, and I wish I had the time right now to really dig in and see how the words want to emerge.
But I can't. There's a race tomorrow that's going to be a beast for me. I need to sleep, but I also need to feel right now.
Remember this poem?
The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know.
I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me.
I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be stirred. Poetic language bubbled up from within, and I wish I had the time right now to really dig in and see how the words want to emerge.
But I can't. There's a race tomorrow that's going to be a beast for me. I need to sleep, but I also need to feel right now.
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And, from a kindred heart, I'm sorry.