I'm
out of trump cards. The inspirational well has run
dry; there are no more inspiring one-liners to get me to that
finish line. I've stopped short again. There's
so much I want to say to you -- so much more I could have
said... We could have been s o m u c h
m o r e . But we aren't, because we aren't, and
that's why we aren't. So I think the only way I'm
going to get myself off this track -- not to the finish line,
not to the next lap, but off the race track altogether -- is
imagine that somewhere, somehow, in some other time, in some
other world, with some other girls that could be us
but aren't, they got it right. And
they're everything we'll never be. That's
my goodbye. Someone else's maybe keeps me going;
it's pulled me off the track. 'Cause I'm
sure that somewhere out there, we could have gotten
it right, even if we
didn't. I'm off to run another race. I'm
so okay, you know? But the legs keep moving,
and I've got to go somewhere -- and that shouldn't be
towards you. This isn't goodbye.
Here's the baton. It's right there, I can't take
it with me. Okay, I'm off. Don't forget to cool down
and stretch, all that good stuff. Stay hydrated.
K e e p r u n n i n g y o u r
r a c e . (we didn't get it right, it's
alright, i love you, g o o d b y
e . )
(for evie)