i bought a skipping rope yesterday. i had gained a few pounds over the break (my waist measurement increased by a couple of inches, mind you) so i was hoping to get back into shape with the help of my magical rope. i'll be devoting about 5 minutes of my time daily to that. (wow. 5 minutes, huh? a big help.)

relationships (especially, uh, romantic ones) are just like skipping ropes. when you're in one, your heart thumps like crazy - adrenaline rush? you're in it. sometimes you think about "it," other times, you just stare at whatever's in front of you, or perhaps at the big blue sky, given you're exercising in broad daylight, not giving a thought to the revolutionary movement of your rope. your legs pick up the pace. and you skip out of "habit": you're caught up in the predictable rounds your rope makes.

oftentimes your legs get tangled. you stop, reposition the rope, and start all over again.

but then you get weary: the time inevitably comes for you to stop and take a breather. so you take the skipping rope by its handles and put it back in the box where it had come from in the first place, to be removed and used whenever you need it again, or at least whenever you FEEL you need it again.

there goes your "session."

<just a thought>