I used to have this joke. It was really a way for me to cope with all of my own personal self-inflicted bs, but it always spoke to how much I utterly loved you. This post will be to “the one woman who never left me.”
This is for Jade.
I wanted you in black. I feel kind of guilty about that now. Because even though a name is just a name, once you were given yours it became an identity. You were reflective in every feature of the design, in the way that neoprene smelled – before any football gear got inside there … or my shoes – and the way taking long drives, really meaningless ventures into the desert with no intent on where I was going, made me feel. You were my strength, my solace, my soul. You were Jade.
15 years we were together. We’d been from Cape Cod to Albuquerque to Kissimmee and plenty of places in between. In you I broke down. In you I became better. I found love in you and I lost in you. A thousand thoughts that have come out at a blinking cursor, first came out in you.