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Re: edited (from k to r, 29 Oct 1996)

On Tue, 29 Oct 1996, Kirk Israel wrote:

> On Tue, 29 Oct 1996, Rosetta wrote:
> > early this morning i got out of bed and thought of you.  i pulled on a 
> > pair of drawstring pants and a sweatshirt, brushed my teeth and pulled on 
> > the baseball cap i wear to keep the hair out of my eyes.  my sneakers 
> > felt comfortable and ready for anything
> > the air outside was dry as only october air is, evaporating the 
> > moisture from my mouth as i streched my legs on the front stairs and 
> > thought of you.  i started off at a trot, trying to keep my breathing 
> > even and slow, setting an easy pace.  the sun was warm, but not enough to 
> > keep off the chill.
> > 
> > feeling the rhythm start and settle i though of you and how it would 
> > feel to set our own pace.  
> > i pushed myself to go faster, to strech every sinew as i tried not to think 
> > of you.  i needed to make my body ache from the strain so it would not ache 
> > from thoughts.  the memory of your scent mixed with the dust that drifted 
> > upwards from the dry leaves i trampled, stinging my eyes with emotion 
> > i could not control, crumbling into ash.  
> > my legs could not go further but i pushed them to, thinking of you.  i 
> > found myself pounding towards my home, finishing some unconcious lap, 
> > some circular movement which sent me to my door to collapse with 
> > trembling legs.  i hurt from the strain, legs and arms and raw throat
> > and lungs and heart, especially heart.  
> > this morning i thought of you and could not stop running.


This evening I think of you and try to think of how
to stop myself from running after, how to acknowledge
that my heart and guts depend on you sometime wanting
to run towards me, not away.

[I just reread that: I didn't mean to say that I
can do more than hope the you in your story has something
to do with me, but something about running is between us)

I remember being surprised that I could sprint faster
than you (I had a miserable time of running the mile
in middle school.)  That line about finding a pace
really struck me: it carmelized a thought I've been 
having about you being one of the very few people I've
felt I could find a pace with on a lot of levels:
emotionally, intellectually, physically, and in
some strange but not unimportant ways, socially, 
and sometimes even goofily.

Tonight has been a good night for communication,
I think.  I'll be thinking about this at sQ.


Another story she wrote, or maybe another draft, and my comments.

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