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Fork in the Road, continued

Sometimes when I’m confused, writing helps me Figure out what is going on in my head.  After my mom said we should invite my lady runner friend (her name is Jo, I learned at the race she invited to) over for dinner, I had this very negative reaction.  It came out of nowhere.  Bam! Oh, I didn’t let on, I told my mom the invite is a great idea.  She wanted to get all busy planning the menu and date right away, but I managed to mumble something about needing to work on a school project and scooted away.

Jo’s note to me.

So now I’m in my room, thinking and making a random list of my feelings.  I’m not ashamed of my House or anything.  And I really would like to get to know Jo better.  I think I just want to do it on my own terms, at least at first.  It’s like I don’t want to share her, not yet.

Because she makes me feel special.

I mean, I don’t own her, but Running is something between us, just us.

Because maybe this could be my first adult friendship…..

…..which would be good because sometimes my friends at school drive me nuts.

Because I already share EVERYTHING with my family.

Because my wonderful mom will cross examine her because that’s just mom’s style.

Because she seems shy.

OK, and because I am shy and will probably clam up with my family and me all around her.

Because the questions I have for her are most probably not my family’s.

Because she invited just me to her house.

And the house looks like this.

And she told me to it was ok just to sit in the chair if she wasn’t there.  I think she’s noticed I usually have something to read  stuffed in my pocket, even when I run.

Because I want to figure out how to tell her that she’s inspired me, but without being geeky about it.

Because why she keeps running is something I think about a lot.

Because I want to listen to her.

Because my grandpa told me everybody has a story and each one is different.

Because I need to know the ways hers is unique.

Because I wrote her a poem.

A Theft
Photos in my World Culture book
A girl,  my age,  in a dusty land
Staring into the camera
So serious, so beautiful.
Did she think her soul would be lost?

Can you capture a little of another’s energy
With just a snapshot?
I think that’s what I was hoping
When I took your picture:
You were running along the bridge.

I had to get home for supper.
It was twilight and you looked as if
You could just keep running into the sky
So strong, so ethereal.
Did you feel me steal those few rays of your soul?

This post first appeared on A Grateful Life, please read the originial post: here

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Fork in the Road, continued


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