I'd Rather Run A Marathon

No one likes to be first, have the first crush, initiate the first kiss, be the first to tell them you really do actually care, and that hitting them is really just going back to playground affection, be the first to say something more than just a favorite movie or color - because then you might just be the first one embarrassed, and no one wants to have their foot be the first one forward. It’s funny how that small six inch slide forward of your foot can be harder than running a 26.2 mile marathon in flip flops. Because that fearful little foot slide could mean that you actually are falling for this person, and that if nothing else you’re willing to be the first, knowing full well that there is a chance the shoe next to you won’t follow your lead, despite how much you want it to, or thought it would. And that hurts. The first step just hurts, because it can mean everything, or it can mean absolutely nothing.

And So It Goes

The dictionary defined grief as keen mental suffering or distress or loss or sharp sorrow. I've been taught to rely on books, definitions and definitives. But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bear little resemblance to sharp sorrow.