Monday, January 30, 2012

Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Sometimes, friendship is as simple as saving that peanut butter sandwich. When you are both full of strength in your legs, but left with empty heaving bellies, one can turn to the other. Without question you tear the sandwich in half. It doesn't matter to me which side you take both say to the other. Because it's not about self.

It's about the concrete steps that you sit on together, chilly on your butt through your leggings. It's about the sunshine and the remnants of conversation strewn between the both of you and the miles you just traveled - free as the steps you pound out on the sidewalk and as rambling as the paths you run.

*For about a year, my friend Sam and I would run together every day. Long runs, to prepare for cross country season or long-distance track. There was always a peanut butter sandwich - actually given to Sam by Emma (another friend) during lunch because she didn't like them. It became tradition for Sam and I, every day to wait until after our tiring run to split the sandwich in half and share it - continuing our conversations. 

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