Babe, you can’t be serious.
When you got into this relationship, you knew what I was about. I’m a man who finishes what he starts. Example: The summer after college, I spent three weekends building the tool shed in the backyard. And when that tool shed collapsed on me due to my lack of structural know-how, I finished my rehab in record time. You also know I’m a man who doesn’t like being told what to do, especially in the darkest hours of life. When Dr. Pinjal recommended that I take up jogging to rehabilitate my broken legs, I forged my own path instead. In order to properly return my body to its previous state, to recover for myself what had turned into hirsute twigs after months of dark confinement, I had no choice but to put up the sails and embark straight into the thumping heart of unfamiliar territory.
Do you remember that scene in Casino Royale where James Bond chased that African dude all through that construction site? Because that’s the exact moment I chose parkour.
Or should I say when parkour chose me.
Of course you remember. We watched that during my first week of rehab. The same week you accepted my proposal. Eight months later, you stood with me underneath the chuppah and promised to stay with me, “till death do us part.”
Next time, don’t say something you don’t mean.
“When are you going to be done with this parkour crap,” you say? One does not simply end his connection to parkour. Let’s get real, Jessica. While you’re at it, why not ask me “How does one complete life’s transcendent journey?” Everything in front of us is parkour’s playground. Parkour has no precipice. God’s green Earth is not a flat table. This is not the 13th century.
I never feel more alive than when I am in the throngs of parkour. My senses ignore everything around me and focus in on the mission ahead. Parkour is so much more than a non-competitive sport of free-running that originated in France during the mid 20th century. It’s a lifestyle. No, a movement. It is literally a movement.
When a traceur, which, as you know, are what practitioners of parkour are called, looks straight ahead into the horizon and sees no obstacles, then he is truly in the zone. Ain’t no mountain high enough, Jessica. Ain’t no valley low enough. A traceur will use every move at his disposal, from gravity’s nemesis the Saut de Bras to the feline-esque Équilibre de Chat. Parkour is about getting from point A to point free.
I don’t understand where your anger comes from. Recall our trip to Madrid. We were late for our dinner reservation when you realized you had forgotten your purse in the hotel room. Instead of wasting time by riding the elevator, I rushed into action and began scaling patios. I thought you’d be impressed by how much I improved my Passé Muraille. Instead, you just stood there with your face in your hands. And when the police arrested me for criminal trespassing, you could’ve told them that I was your husband instead of pretending that you didn’t know me. Not cool.
So this is really it. You’re leaving me and taking our son? And you want the car? Fine. Go ahead. I don’t need the car. I can get around just fine on my own two feet. I’m sure you’re aware of that by now.
But before you go, do one thing for me. Log onto YouTube and search “Best Parkour MEGAMIX!!!!!! (2007)” for some of the finest examples this sport has to offer. I find the Berlin trance music to be a little jarring, so first open iTunes and sync my parkour playlist to begin at the moment the footage starts. Then sit back and recognize, for the very first time in your life, what you’re losing.
If you change your mind, I’ll be in the backyard.