Last Time
The last time I saw you I told you I loved you. Love you, girl.
It’s not a thing I say lightly, even if it might have sounded like it.
After being on trails together, we can say that in a way non-mountain people won’t understand. Not in the way I would have understood before putting my footsteps on the same path as your footsteps in Nepal, and Mexico, and Utah.
Not in the way your human ears will ever hear again.
It’s okay though. Because you’re still here, a little voice on the trail.
You’re still hearing, because I’ll keep talking with you on those trails.
You once told me that when I was ready for a big scary goal, you would be my pacer.
You still will be, but for more than just that race. You’ll still be telling me to suffer well, that it was time to LFG, and that it’s an honor to share sunrises.
It absolutely was an honor for the handful we saw.
It will still be, for the ones I’ll see on your behalf.
I’ll just be listening a little harder since your voice is now in the air.
