Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Five
I don’t want to go.
When you get to the point where there’s no filter.
She asks me what snacks I want. I tell her it doesn’t matter anymore; tomorrow is my last day.
Will they try harder with a new face there?
It feels good to say, “No. We raised over $7,000.” Too late for your help now.
Warm-ups and bags ordered! A win.
I tell her about how we saw him at Azteca and how he asked what our favorite tacos are, and then she came into the gym with two tacos. “We must be doing something right.”
I just never know and that’s the thing that scares me.
“You’re right. That’s the wrong reason.”
But it’s never really over.
