[28210] in linux-announce channel archive
Save For Labor Day: Bring Leather Back To Life In Seconds
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Gwendolyn Oliver)
Mon Aug 16 15:37:39 2021
Date: Mon, 16 Aug 2021 15:26:47 -0400
From: "Gwendolyn Oliver" <gwendolyn-oliver@wugiwellness.com>
To: <linuxch-announce.discuss@charon.mit.edu>
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** DAMAGED LEATHER CAR SEATS? **
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Fix it up with Leather Miracle Gel!
Leather Miracle Gel can be used for damaged, worn-out car seats. It's easy to use and will help your leather seats look brand new in no time! Simply clean the damaged area, apply the gel, let it dry and repeat the steps until the gel is even with the original surface. Keep your interior looking new and fresh with Leather Miracle Gel! Pick your color!
Our product is available in a variety of colors, making it a great solution no matter your leather repair needs.
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Galilei Technical Messaging
115 Redbay Ln
Clayton NC 27527 5271
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<!--In the spirit of the leo season and myself as one- I consider my zodiac sign to be seen as extroverted; but can be seen as an introvert as well. Leo's are fun, loud and energetic. Although- around certain people, they can be very quiet and reserved. We are fire signs; that are full of pride, optimism, radiance and different dynamics. Being seen as an extrovert- but a true introvert at heart... I am very careful and observe all options before proceeding.
One major factor as a leo- is we will always try to show we are happy and strong. Even when we are at our lowest, we still will be the loudest in the room. Many leo's love to go out, hang out with friends or family, while being the center of attention. I am the type of leo that is a true home-body, and enjoys my own company (or being with my dog of course!)
I mean who does not love animals!!!??? I am slightly biased in that regard- because I am a veterinary technician and have always loved them. I have one dog myself, and he is a big puppy at heart. He also is a leo as well! My dog is true extrovert though - always enjoying a pet from anyone he can. An amazing dog, but moving back to the true story here (about an introvert...)
Here it goes folks....
Now, since this story is about an introvert, which I am. Ha-ha we shall start from the very beginning of time. No we are not going back as far as the Land before Time, jokes aside - I am not that old yet. If you do not get the reference there; it is an animated film about dinosaurs.
Here is a link if anyone wants to check out the movie:
The Land Before Time (1988) - IMDb
During my younger days- I was quite the shy and introverted person. I would hide away from large groups and stick to what I knew. My three friends at school and my teammates was enough for me. I would spend a-lot of time studying and playing sports. In middle school- flag football, volleyball and cross- country were my favourites. As a TRUE introvert- track and field and cross - country were where I would feel the most free. Also- winning a race on your own was always quite satisfying. (UH - OH .. My leo is showing ha-ha).
Running was a stress release from daily life and a way to cope. Physical exercise is one of the best therapies I think! The dopamine release from winning the event or feeling good about myself; always kept me going. Of course- I loved other sports too, but as leo; we definitely enjoy what we are best at.
In school life during recess times- sometimes the bullying would get so bad that I would hide behind the portables. (HAHA ... funny for them but not me!). Not sure what the boys got out of that - but now as a pretty young woman- it sure is satisfying when they want to take me on a date. Of course I reply and say "no, thank you sir."
I guess that is the extrovert or possibly the leo in me? But- the attention can be nice, but as well on the other hand; I would like to be left alone. As an introvert- I use to enjoy reading and writing quite frequently on my own time!!! I would also spend my days alone with my dog - listening to music while doing my work. Or enjoying long romantic walks on the beach (just kidding- this is not a dating website ad ha-ha). I much more prefer- a hike in the mountains with my dog in Northern Ontario where the views are phenomenal.
I would get a-lot of pride and joy out of reading. I must say my favourite books of ALL time are the Harry Potter Series. J.K. Rowling is a fantastic writer and there is always an adventure on the following page.
Check out these sites for any other fellow Harry Potter Fans!!!
Wizarding World: The Official Home of Harry Potter
Home - J.K. Rowling (jkrowling.com)
Now as young female who thought the worse days were behind her- I endured quite an adventurous life throughout northern and southern Ontario. Unfortunately, along the way; I encountered some people with bad mindsets, you could say. As an introvert- making friends can be hard. As well- I seem to be the person that gives people chances and trust too much.
I have been assaulted (no need for details) (And I hope for any survivors- you are doing better and it never happens again!)
Please support the Me Too Movement and help those that may need it. Attached below are two links for more information:
The #MeToo Movement in
Canada | Learn the Facts (canadianwomen.org)
me too. Movement (metoomvmt.org)
ANYWHO!!! Moving on from discussing that dark time..
I now realize to be careful who you trust and let in your life.
Pain does make us stronger though!!! (And ALOT OF THERAPY - ha-ha). Jokes aside- as an introvert I do find that you struggle to reach out. When you are shy and for many years of pushing my feelings and emotions deep down; it can be hard to open up. Talk therapy is very difficult for introverts and/or people that have experienced trauma.
I found that One- on - One Therapy worked best for myself being an introvert. Although- it did take alot of time to find someone that I meshed with. Being a leo- I am very picky; plus I do not like talking to just about anyone.
I did find that I tended to thrive more and speak up in a setting with only one person. Maybe it is because there is not a-lot of other people around to judge? At least- that is my opinion on the subject of therapy. Also, as an introvert- doing mindfulness exercises; such as painting, dancing or listening to music can be helpful.
Check out Paint Nite if you need ideas on some creative pieces!!
Attached is a link for some fun ideas if interested:
The Original Paint Nite | Connect Over Unique Virtual Events
60 Paint Nite Ideas | beautiful nature, scenery, landscape (pinterest.ca)
Lastly, I would like to wish all my readers a happy and lovely
day. Keep on going friends!!! Things do get easier. Take care, stay safe and do not forget to smile.
Signing off-
Your friend, online writer family member and newbie writer Miss
Maggie Maria--->
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<h1 style="font-size: 40px; font-weight: 200; text-align: center;">DAMAGED LEATHER CAR SEATS?</h1>
<p style="font-size: 28px;">Fix it up with <strong>Leather Miracle Gel</strong>!</p>
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<p>The Leather Miracle Gel has you covered no matter the need. The Gel can be used on any leather item designed to repair furniture, car seats, jackets, shoes, accessories and many more.</p>
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<p style="font-size: 16px; font-weight: 100; text-align: center; line-height: 24px;">The Leather Miracle Gel provides professional results, affordably. Increase the lifetime of your expensive leather items today!</p>
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Galilei Technical Messaging
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115 Redbay Ln
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Clayton NC 27527 5271
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<a style="color: inherit; text-decoration: underline;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/blankets-resetting/9cc6i23h9j5j8M6l12j4Y991GJ861Q40Xhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47XQyonKm7lHr1Ym06i1s3Tv"> End </a> all futher communication.
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<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">?Are you coming tonight?? you wanted to know. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I wasn't, or I hadn't been planning to. But I heard myself answer, ?yes, I'd love to!? It wasn't until you'd kissed me goodbye and were halfway to your car that I asked myself why I said that. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">The last thing I felt like doing that night was participating in our town's version of a <em>carnival</em>. You know they do this every summer. I've never liked it. I'd been looking forward to being by myself, maybe ordering in and watching movies. I said yes, I realized, because <em>Evan was going to be there</em>! I said yes because long experience told me my heart should have sped up with excitement when you asked me to go. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">It hadn't, though. And now that I was thinking about it, I couldn't remember the last time it had. It must have been years.<em> </em>I remembered the way just thinking of you used to make me feel, and felt nothing except a mild nostalgic twinge that I suspect was more for our middle school days when we started dating than for you yourself. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Not that there was anything <em>wrong</em> with you, Evan. I can only imagine what you must feel towards me now (actually, I can't imagine it), but if it means anything to you, I want you to know that this was not your fault. It wasn't anything you did. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I guess you were probably going to propose sometime soon, now that we've finished college and are looking for jobs. Not student jobs or summer jobs but <em>job</em> jobs. Rest-of-our-lives jobs. Maybe you weren't, but I felt pretty confident and I still do. We'd been together for ten years, after all, almost half our lives. It sounds crazy now that I'm typing it out. How many people marry their seventh grade boyfriends? I would have been one of an elite few, if you hadn't asked me to that carnival when and how you did. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Or maybe not, if I'm wrong and you weren't going to propose, or if I'd had my revelation some other moment some other way. Who knows? Personally, though, I think that was what did it, because when it hit me how easily and unthinkingly I'd lied to you, I realized it was because of how natural it had become for me to lie to both of us. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Once you were my best friend in the world, Evan. I don't know when I fell out of love with you, but I know it was a long, long time ago. I also don't know if that's when I fell out of love with my whole life. All I know is that the night of the carnival, I suddenly knew something with absolute certainty, which was an unfamiliar feeling. So I walked downstairs in the jean shorts and denim jacket I always wore to summer nights out, and I got behind the wheel of my car?with every intention, I thought, of meeting you at the fairgrounds. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I made the left onto Pine Street, and then I just kept driving. It's a good thing there weren't many people on the road because you know that's a fifty zone and I was going at least seventy. I got on the highway going west and drove until my gas light started blinking. I don't know how far from town I was by then. I didn't think about it. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Now, I'm sure you're wondering, what <em>was</em> I thinking?! I'm sorry, because this is going to be disappointing, but I wasn't thinking about much of anything. I was thinking that I <em>wasn't</em> going to the stupid carnival. Somewhere in me, I was thinking that I couldn't take another day of what, until that moment, I'd flattered myself by calling<em> my life</em>. Mostly, though, I was thinking about filling up my gas tank and getting back on the highway, and going, going, going and never stopping for anything. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">When I got back on the highway, my pockets were bulging. I had drawn as much cash as I could from all my cards. My phone started to ring as I left the station's convenience store. I chucked it in the trash as I came through the door. I never saw who called. If it was you, checking to see why I was late?well, now I'm telling you why. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">My speedometer never dropped below eighty the entire rest of that night. I'm actually kind of amazed I didn't get ticketed. Anyway, it was a beautiful sunrise. I think it was the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen. I kept drawing cash from my cards until there was nothing left on either of them, and then I threw them in the garbage too. I drove until my car and I were both so low on fuel that neither of us had anything left to burn. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I pulled off the highway into a little nothing town, like ours but also completely, fundamentally different. I think I was somewhere near Illinois at this point, or just outside of it. I'm not quite sure. I got calories for myself and gasoline for Cheryl (as I've started calling my chevrolet). I swear it was the most amazing cup of weak coffee and the most sublime overly greased omelet anyone has ever tasted. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I drove the entire rest of that day, and finally crashed in a motel in Madison, Wisconsin. You don't know how good it felt to <em>bathe</em>. I washed away two days' worth of sweat and dust, and twenty-two years and fifty days' worth of a life I now realized I'd never been particularly fond of. Once I was clean, I put on a ratty old bathrobe and found the hotel's gift shop. I bought packets of underwear, sports bras, a nightshirt, two pairs of vacation shorts, three t-shirts, a backpack and a sweatshirt. The motel had free toiletries. I took everything I could carry or fit in my bag. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I drank scalding hot tea and watched cartoons until I fell asleep. I felt incredible. That was the happiest I'd been in my whole life. That sounds sad, I know, but it feels wonderful. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">The next day I woke up and my first thought was that the day <em>belonged</em> to me, in a way that nothing ever had. This is tough to explain. Also, don't think I don't realize how cruel I sound to you. I'm not trying to be cruel. I'm sorry I didn't do this a long time ago, and I'm sorry I did it this way, but somehow I don't think you're that hurt. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Maybe I'm just making myself feel better. But I was never close with my parents. I would have died for my school friends, but after school somehow they all faded away. And you and I haven't been close, whatever we led ourselves to believe. We thought we were close the way pre-teens are close. We never even tried to be close as adults. The person I was until that night when I left is gone forever. I don't really think that anyone is going to miss her. I won't feel bad about that, though. I never needed her and I still don't. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">So nothing from who I used to be was mine, but this day was. I had it to spend however I chose. I could do anything. I'd just proved that by doing something I never would have thought I could do?walking away. Choosing to be the person I want to be. I went out and explored Madison. I liked it, but I didn't love it, and after a day I was ready to be somewhere else, so that night Cheryl and I got back on the road. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">At 3 AM, I decided I was hungry. Google told me there was a roadside diner forty miles away that was open twenty-four hours. I finished my slice of pie and sugary, bittersweet coffee at 4:30 AM and I was in South Dakota for the next sunrise. A couple of backpackers watched it with me, off of a hiking trail near the Minnesota border. I liked them, and I liked hanging out with them, so I stuck around for a few days. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Who knew South Dakota was so <em>gorgeous</em>? Or that I have a knack for hiking, for that matter? I slipped once and got my Snuggle's Motel vacation shorts muddy, but I kept up with them. Their names are Abby and Danielle. I'm going to visit them next week! I'm not going to tell you where, because neither of us needs to do a post mortem on the old me, but it's a city I've never been to, and I can't wait to see it. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">We eventually parted ways because they were heading up to Canada. For that I would've needed a passport, which I didn't have or feel like getting. Besides, I wanted to see Montana. I kept driving. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">After two days of watching Montana spin past me, and a surprisingly breathtaking stop in Idaho, I made it to Washington. I'd always wanted to see Washington state. Did you know that? I don't think you did. I never talked about it. I don't think I'll ever know, Evan, why my real self was so rarely?if ever?a part of us. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Don't think I haven't asked myself whether things would have played out differently if I'd been more honest with the both of us. I asked it a lot of times, but the mountains of Washington blew it from my mind. I won't dwell on the past. We both have lives to live. I hope. Or, no?I believe. Please believe me that I'm sorry it took me so long to acknowledge that. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">The road from Washington to California is a blur. Oregon was a whirl of color in the windows while Adele blasted on the radio. I started stopping just for the heck of it, in random places. I would stock up on Twizzlers and Doritos and just keep on hitting the road.</span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I'm not going to tell you about what I did from there, I've decided. I started typing this out just to get my thoughts in order. I had no intention of sending it to you. I was going to send you something else. An apology? An explanation? I don't know.</span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">All I can think is that I owe you the truth, for once. So here it is, for all the good it may do. I don't know anymore if this is cruel or kind. It is real, though. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">You don't need to hear about all the things I did, or the friends I made, or the things I saw. I was renting monthly, and I'd just paid. Mr. Brecker has probably thrown my things out already. Like I said before, no one will miss the person I was, least of all me. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I'm sending this from a public library computer (the keys are sticky but the WiFi is good). Then I'm never checking my old email address again. Like I said, I started this email just to start saying <em>something</em>. I never meant to send it. You have no idea how hard it was to sit down and do this. You must've gathered by now: I love the feeling of running. I've been running towards my life since the last time we spoke. I won't run away from my past, and I won't let you take the brunt of it again, so I'm going to make myself hit Send in a moment. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">You won't see me again. I don't think I'll ever get sick of the over-fresh scent of hotel beds, or the tang of rest stop coffee, but I am going to have to get back to the job thing. It's an odd feeling, having no idea where I'll be in three weeks or three years. Actually, my head is getting a little buzzy just thinking about it. It's nervousness, but truth be told, I think it's closer to excitement. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Once again?know that you did nothing wrong. Forgive me if you can, and if it will make you happy. If it were me I'd rather be furious. Do that, please, with my blessing. Whatever is best for you is what I hope you'll do. I'm not sorry for what I did; it's exactly what I should have done. I never wanted your happiness to be sacrificed to mine. I don't believe it will be. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Thank you for what you did for me that night, however unintentionally. I'm not being flippant; I mean that. You gave me an epiphany that I desperately needed when you asked me, <em>was I coming tonight? </em>It is with the relish and release that epiphany brought me that I can finally say, with candor: <em>No, I'm not</em>. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">?Are you coming tonight?? you wanted to know. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I wasn't, or I hadn't been planning to. But I heard myself answer, ?yes, I'd love to!? It wasn't until you'd kissed me goodbye and were halfway to your car that I asked myself why I said that. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">The last thing I felt like doing that night was participating in our town's version of a <em>carnival</em>. You know they do this every summer. I've never liked it. I'd been looking forward to being by myself, maybe ordering in and watching movies. I said yes, I realized, because <em>Evan was going to be there</em>! I said yes because long experience told me my heart should have sped up with excitement when you asked me to go. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">It hadn't, though. And now that I was thinking about it, I couldn't remember the last time it had. It must have been years.<em> </em>I remembered the way just thinking of you used to make me feel, and felt nothing except a mild nostalgic twinge that I suspect was more for our middle school days when we started dating than for you yourself. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Not that there was anything <em>wrong</em> with you, Evan. I can only imagine what you must feel towards me now (actually, I can't imagine it), but if it means anything to you, I want you to know that this was not your fault. It wasn't anything you did. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I guess you were probably going to propose sometime soon, now that we've finished college and are looking for jobs. Not student jobs or summer jobs but <em>job</em> jobs. Rest-of-our-lives jobs. Maybe you weren't, but I felt pretty confident and I still do. We'd been together for ten years, after all, almost half our lives. It sounds crazy now that I'm typing it out. How many people marry their seventh grade boyfriends? I would have been one of an elite few, if you hadn't asked me to that carnival when and how you did. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Or maybe not, if I'm wrong and you weren't going to propose, or if I'd had my revelation some other moment some other way. Who knows? Personally, though, I think that was what did it, because when it hit me how easily and unthinkingly I'd lied to you, I realized it was because of how natural it had become for me to lie to both of us. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Once you were my best friend in the world, Evan.<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/42b5kL2395uM8w610E4992g861N40Ghbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47eQyonKm6zzT10x5ezLsv/salable-bed"> I don't know when I fell out of love with you, but I know it was a long, long time ago. I also don't know if that's when I fell out of love with my whole life. All I know is that the night of the carnival, I suddenly knew something with absolute certainty, which was an unfamiliar feeling. So I walked downstairs in the jean shorts and denim jacket I always wore to summer nights out, and I got behind the wheel of my car?with every intention, I thought, of meeting you at the fairgrounds. </a></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;"><a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/42b5kL2395uM8w610E4992g861N40Ghbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47eQyonKm6zzT10x5ezLsv/salable-bed">I made the left onto Pine Street, and then I just kept driving</a>. It's a good thing there weren't many people on the road because you know that's a fifty zone and I was going at least seventy. I got on the highway going west and drove until my gas light started blinking. I don't know how far from town I was by then. I didn't think about it. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Now, I'm sure you're wondering, what <em>was</em> I thinking?! I'm sorry, because this is going to be disappointing, but I wasn't thinking about much of anything. I was thinking that I <em>wasn't</em> going to the stupid carnival. Somewhere in me, I was thinking that I couldn't take another day of what, until that moment, I'd flattered myself by calling<em> my life</em>. Mostly, though, I was thinking about filling up my gas tank and getting back on the highway, and going, going, going and never stopping for anything. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">When I got back on the highway, my pockets were bulging. I had drawn as much cash as I could from all my cards. My phone started to ring as I left the station's convenience store. I chucked it in the trash as I came through the door. I never saw who called. If it was you, checking to see why I was late?well, now I'm telling you why. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">My speedometer never dropped below eighty the entire rest of that night. I'm actually kind of amazed I didn't get ticketed. Anyway, it was a beautiful sunrise. I think it was the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen. I kept drawing cash from my cards until there was nothing left on either of them, and then I threw them in the garbage too. I drove until my car and I were both so low on fuel that neither of us had anything left to burn. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I pulled off the highway into a little nothing town, like ours but also completely, fundamentally different. I think I was somewhere near Illinois at this point, or just outside of it. I'm not quite sure. I got calories for myself and gasoline for Cheryl (as I've started calling my chevrolet). I swear it was the most amazing cup of weak coffee and the most sublime overly greased omelet anyone has ever tasted. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I drove the entire rest of that day, and finally crashed in a motel in Madison, Wisconsin. You don't know how good it felt to <em>bathe</em>. I washed away two days' worth of sweat and dust, and twenty-two years and fifty days' worth of a life I now realized I'd never been particularly fond of. Once I was clean, I put on a ratty old bathrobe and found the hotel's gift shop. I bought packets of underwear, sports bras, a nightshirt, two pairs of vacation shorts, three t-shirts, a backpack and a sweatshirt. The motel had free toiletries. I took everything I could carry or fit in my bag. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I drank scalding hot tea and watched cartoons until I fell asleep. I felt incredible. That was the happiest I'd been in my whole life. That sounds sad, I know, but it feels wonderful. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">The next day I woke up and my first thought was that the day <em>belonged</em> to me, in a way that nothing ever had. This is tough to explain. Also, don't think I don't realize how cruel I sound to you. I'm not trying to be cruel. I'm sorry I didn't do this a long time ago, and I'm sorry I did it this way, but somehow I don't think you're that hurt. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Maybe I'm just making myself feel better. But I was never close with my parents. I would have died for my school friends, but after school somehow they all faded away. And you and I haven't been close, whatever we led ourselves to believe. We thought we were close the way pre-teens are close. We never even tried to be close as adults. The person I was until that night when I left is gone forever. I don't really think that anyone is going to miss her. I won't feel bad about that, though. I never needed her and I still don't. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">So nothing from who I used to be was mine, but this day was. I had it to spend however I chose. I could do anything. I'd just proved that by doing something I never would have thought I could do?walking away. Choosing to be the person I want to be. I went out and explored Madison. I liked it, but I didn't love it, and after a day I was ready to be somewhere else, so that night Cheryl and I got back on the road. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">At 3 AM, I decided I was hungry. Google told me there was a roadside diner forty miles away that was open twenty-four hours. I finished my slice of pie and sugary, bittersweet coffee at 4:30 AM and I was in South Dakota for the next sunrise. A couple of backpackers watched it with me, off of a hiking trail near the Minnesota border. I liked them, and I liked hanging out with them, so I stuck around for a few days. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Who knew South Dakota was so <em>gorgeous</em>? Or that I have a knack for hiking, for that matter? I slipped once and got my Snuggle's Motel vacation shorts muddy, but I kept up with them. Their names are Abby and Danielle. I'm going to visit them next week! I'm not going to tell you where, because neither of us needs to do a post mortem on the old me, but it's a city I've never been to, and I can't wait to see it. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">We eventually parted ways because they were heading up to Canada. For that I would've needed a passport, which I didn't have or feel like getting. Besides, I wanted to see Montana. I kept driving. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">After two days of watching Montana spin past me, and a surprisingly breathtaking stop in Idaho, I made it to Washington. I'd always wanted to see Washington state. Did you know that? I don't think you did. I never talked about it. I don't think I'll ever know, Evan, why my real self was so rarely?if ever?a part of us. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Don't think I haven't asked myself whether thin<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/parklike-shifty/9185J239S5oyH8610m4993K861S40nhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47BQyonKm7i1k0tTl6Y@p@sv">gs would have played out differently if I'd been more honest with the both of us. I asked it a lot of times, but the mountains of Washington blew it from my mind. I won't dwell on the past. We both have lives to live. I hope. Or, no?I believe. Please believe me that I'm</a> sorry it took me so long to acknowledge that. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">The road from Washington to California is a blur. Oregon was a whirl of color in the windows while Adele blasted on the radio. I started stopping just for the heck of it<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/usably-nines/4e06k2Rk395PVH8612N4K994Sn861H40ahbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47tQyonKm6G1u0SJ6lM2sXv">, in</a> random places. I would stock up on Twizzlers and Doritos and just keep on hitting the road.</span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I'm not going to tell you abou<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/salable-bed/cH66W2_39k5j86hW11l4995tY861N40khbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47wQyonKm5gNH105RlsvX">t what I did from there, I've decided. I started typing this out just to get my thoughts in order. I had no intention of sending it to you. I was</a> going to send you something else. An apology? An explanation? I don't know.</span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">All I can think is that I owe you the truth, for once. So here<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/excusing-threescore/5d06U23Iv95tyK8610B4996s861O40Ahbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47cQyonKm5O1pK06DXsNv@"> it is, fo</a>r all the good it may do. I don't know anymore if this is cruel or kind. It is real, though. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">You don't need to hear about all the things I did, or the friends I made, or the things I saw. I was renting monthly, and I'd just paid. Mr. Brecker has probably thrown my things out already. Like I said before, no<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/42b5o2u395r8m6Y10G4997G861M40Nhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47vQyonKm6Ly10uh6FlNsBv/blankets-resetting"> one wil</a>l miss the person I was, least of all me. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">I'm sending this from a public library computer (the keys are st<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/6dd6U2T3D95Q8T6k11n499g8O861h40Nhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47dQyonKm6Aq1x0_5MAs0v/parklike-shifty">icky</a> but the WiFi is good). Then I'm never checking my old email address again. Like I s<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/parklike-shifty/7b06q2I39w5Cpx8610r4999_861j40khbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47JQyonKm6cK1y0K5nyLsv">aid, I s</a>tarted th<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/4dC5Ou2395cl8M611A4W99aP861I40Dhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47uQyonKm6bhv1T06mMqMsv/blankets-resetting">is em</a>ail just to start saying <em>something</em>. I never meant to send it. You have no idea how hard it was to sit down and do this. You must've gathered by now: I love the feeling of running. I've been running towards my life since the last time we spo<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/usably-nines/daa6rI2Q395r_86q10Q499bN861w40Khbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47DQyonKm5S10CQ5Jpsvz">ke. I won't run away from my past, and I won't let you take the brunt of it again, so I'm going to make myself hit Send in a mom</a>ent. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">You won't see me again. I don't think I'll ever get sick of the over-fresh scent of hotel beds, or the tang of rest stop coffee, but I am going to have <a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/bab4Q2395D8q6r11M499cDS861z40thbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47BQyonKm5qL1T06FM@svT/salable-bed">to get back to the job thing. It's an odd feeling, having no idea where I'll be in three weeks or three years. Actually, my head is get</a>ting a little buzzy just thinking about it. It's nervousness, but truth be told, I think it's closer to excitement. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;"><a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/excusing-threescore/b706P2V3O95v8T6v12RJ4u99dr861T40Dhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47yQyonKm6C1wXX05oqpsv">Once again?know that you did nothing wrong. Forgive me if you can, and if it will make you happy. If it were me I'd rather be furious. Do that, please, with my blessing. Whatever is best for you is what I hope you'll do. I'm not sorry for what I did; it's exactly what I should have done. I</a> never wanted your happiness to be sacrificed to mine. I don't believe it will be. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Thank you for what you did for me that night, however unintentionally. I'm not being flippant; I mean that. You gave me an epiphany that I desperately needed when<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/excusing-threescore/53a5Y2Q395g8Rl612u4r99eoU861P40fhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47qQyonKm5L10_J5ijXsv"> you asked me, <em>was I coming tonight? </em>It is with the relish and release that epiphany brought me that I can finally say, with candor: </a><em><a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.wugiwellness.com/excusing-threescore/53a5Y2Q395g8Rl612u4r99eoU861P40fhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47qQyonKm5L10_J5ijXsv">No,</a> I'm not</em>. </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;"> </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Sincerely, </span></p>
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Sara</span></p>
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