Thank you for the growth.
I arrived a weightlifter and left a grappler. I made my second Tampa home at CrossFit Gaspar as a coach. I remember the afternoon sessions there, sweating alone with the garage doors open and the big fans moving air in the tall space. Then, I decided to become a beginner again and joined Marcio Cruz Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Rolling with the strong newbie no-stripe reminds me how little I knew back then and how much I have learned.
I’ve grown into my physical practice, my emotional growth, and a vision for the future because of our time together.
I’m sorry for leaving without a proper goodbye.
Time passes all too quickly and too slowly. I never made it to a First Friday, MOSI, or those Ybor City turkey legs. I don’t know how to properly say goodbye to a place. I doubt I ever will.
Do I sit in quiet contemplation surrounded by an empty apartment? Do I meet up with loved ones and exchange the necessary goodbyes? Or do I accept small gifts of love, like the cutting of a desert rose, and give some in return, like our potted garden of green babies?
Small bits of closure that add up to something more than the sum.
I love you for opening up to me.
I’ve forged so many connections in my two years with you.
Friends in strange places, like a float spa and tattoo shop.
Buddies in sweaty places, like a box next to a fried chicken drive-thru and an academy in pajamas.
Peers in non-academic places, like on a slackline by campus or dancing at a music festival.
I’ve explored Thai yoga massage, Buddhist temples with delicious noodles, and freediving in hidden springs. You have given me so much and my love is all that I have to give in return.
Forgive me for underestimating you.
I remember saying Florida with a certain stank, an air of superiority because I’m from New Hampshire. Yes, there are weird and wacky parts of you. No, I do not judge you too harshly for them.
I appreciate you and our time together. I’ll return. A winter or spring break visit sounds great.
We will meet again, in some form or another, and I look forward to that.
at last and too soon,
… Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Long Form Sundays
- On delaying the inevitable (or 18 days to Step One)
- On necessary atrophy (or 8 days to Step One)
- On bitter pills (or 15 days to Step One)