I'm out of trump cards. The inspirational well has run dry; there are no more inspiring one-liners to get me to that finish line. I've stopped short again. There's so much I want to say to you -- so much more I could have said... We could have been s o m u c h m o r e . But we aren't, because we aren't, and that's why we aren't. So I think the only way I'm going to get myself off this track -- not to the finish line, not to the next lap, but off the race track altogether -- is imagine that somewhere, somehow, in some other time, in some other world, with some other girls that could be us but aren't, they got it right. And they're everything we'll never be. That's my goodbye. Someone else's maybe keeps me going; it's pulled me off the track. 'Cause I'm sure that somewhere out there, we could have gotten it right, even if we didn't. I'm off to run another race. I'm so okay, you know? But the legs keep moving, and I've got to go somewhere -- and that shouldn't be towards you. This isn't goodbye. Here's the baton. It's right there, I can't take it with me. Okay, I'm off. Don't forget to cool down and stretch, all that good stuff. Stay hydrated. K e e p r u n n i n g y o u r r a c e . (we didn't get it right, it's alright, i love you, g o o d b y e . )
(for evie)