It was such a nice talk, followed by such a funny comment. My best friend, sitting there, listening to me rant, tears brimming in my eyes in constant threat of falling.
First, asking me to go on and cry already. I can’t, I don’t want to, don’t hug me please. It just makes it all harder, more sad, I’m so sad. I’d rather just sit by the door.
Second, telling me I’ve become a “workoutaholic.” That I should find something that I like to do, or try to be productive. In this moment I was reminded of how different we are. I’m a fucking nutrition major. This is what I like to do. This is productivity. I move. I don’t sit in my misery and wallow.
I would love nothing more than to feel my feet fly over every board in this picture, chasing those mountains. That would be productivity. That is what I would like to do.