I stop just in front of it.
“You there, Rowe? Rowe, are you there?”
“Let me call you back,” I tell my best friend.
I stamp on the trash can’s pedal, and the lid lifts. The blackness waits for the boots to fall in, and as it looms, my heart convulses. Throwing these away feels like I’m throwing away part of myself. No, not part of me—part of my dad. It feels like if I lose these, then I’ve lost myself.
How silly is that? It’s just a pair of old boots.
Even though things change—years pass, people die, surroundings alter—the one thing that remains is you and how you deal with those changes.
And I’m tired of expecting the worst and waiting to be abandoned. No more. I’m ready to fall, and hopefully Pane will catch me, because I love him. With all my heart, with all my soul, I love that man, and he needs to know it.
“Goodbye, Dad. See you on the flip side.”
Then I drop the shoes in the trash.
Maybe I can catch Pane before it’s too late.
