This morning

This morning

San Diego, California; September 12th, 2016. It has been colder here than it has been back east. I have known that you exist for about a month now. 

Six o'clock this morning and the hazy-marine-layer gently fall over the hills and appears as rain in the distance. It is not rain. Since my return to the golden state in early August, it has not yet rained once. It is strange but I find that somehow even without the rain and the wind and the mud; these early mornings still bring me closer to who I once was a couple of years ago. Since the days that she walked this earth, much life has been lived. She is just a kid. She does not yet know how exhausting it will feel to spend hours on accounting homework after a long day of classes & an eight mile run or how equally yet peacefully exhausting it will feel to think of you all day while doing all of these things, and she for sure won't know the difference. Aside from all of this she knows a lot of things that the person I have been this past year seemed to have forgotten.

I am fortunate the thoughts of her stay with me like an old friend. She gives me hope that it is never to late to begin again. She is my inner voice. She is the wind on by back. On mornings like this one I run with her and I remind her that someday she will meet someone who understands her in the same way that I do. She tells me to keep running. She still doesn't believe me.

This morning I remembered what it feels like to want to love and want to be loved; and to believe in myself and in us and in everything. Be it my own two feet or the way you look at me. 

The things that love us back

The things that love us back

Ballparks

Ballparks