Get Back On That Bike.

It's So, So Stupid What We Do To Ourselves Because We're Afraid. It's So Stupid.

Nah," I Said. "but If It Does, Just Tell Him I Said To Get Back On The Bike." "what?" "he'll Understand.

She Was So Emotional, On The Verge Of Tears. This Was What I'd Wanted To Prevent With All Those Quick Disappearances, The Tangledness Of Farewells And All The Baggage They Brought With Them. But Now, Looking At Deb, I Realized What Else I'd Given Up: Knowing For Sure That Someone Was Going To Miss Me. What Happened To Goodbye, Michael In Westcott Had Written On My Ume.com Page. I Was Pretty Sure I Knew, Now. It Had Been Packed Away In A Box Of Its Own, Trying To Be Forgotten, Until I Really Needed It. Until Now.

A Lot Can Change Between Planning Something And Actually Doing It. But Maybe All That Really Matters Is That Anything Is Different At All.

I Always Tried To Imagine What It Would Be Like To Open Your Door To Find Something You Had Given Up On. Maybe It Had Seen Places You Never Had, Been Rerouted And Passed Through So Many Strange Hands, But Still Somehow Found Its Way Back To You, All Before The Day Even Began.