f- you 700 club

Hello Bruce,

What the heck, you were in Chicago last night and I’m here in Italy!! I confess, I am jealous. Wish we could have been in my home town together for a few hours. Yesterday I wrote you telling you about the 700 club. We’ve slowly made it to 700 calories, a new standard. Well, after only 5 minutes on the treadmill today I said I’m going to go for more than an hour today. Then I answered myself: yeah, say that again in about 55 minutes and see how you feel.  Well, I did it. I just kept going 50 calories at a time and stopped when the clock turned back to 000 meaning I had hit 1,000. All or nothing at all….half of love never appealed to me. I said all….or nothing at all. (Thanks Frank) You know Frank was manic depressive? I’ve wondered if I am too. I’m not that severe. I’m just a quacking psycho hormonal person who people tend to think of as sweet and moody. I was listening to “have a talk with god” by Stevie Wonder and that always makes me feel good and at the same time like I want to start debating theology. Then “something from the past” came on and I almost broke out into tears. You know, honey, those songs in your life that you can’t listen to for a while and when you can again, you know you’re ok.  Mamma, mia., I couldn’t listen to “the song is you” for years and it was like torture to hear it the first few times after that. Even listening to “always” the other day that I had dedicated to my brother and his ex hurt to listen to now. I wrote out the best parts in my best calligraphy around a custom picture frame for their wedding picture. (until the seas and trees just up and fly away) f-you liar. That frame has probably been burnt or is rotting in a dump somewhere just like all the hopes that went with it. I know I can’t outrun my hurt Bruce. But I have to do something that isn’t getting drunk or cutting myself. I want to kick this thing. Is it possible, or will I always keep running?

Baby we were born to run.

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