I Run
February 23, 2006 by The Tattoed Debutante
I hurt someone. I didn’t mean to. I would never intentionally hurt someone that I cared about, but intention is such a fine line. I knew what I was doing. I knew the consequences of my actions. I did it anyway. I can’t control myself sometimes. I have to run. I’ve never not run, in one form or another, and my reasons span the spectrum of emotion and circumstance. We call ourselves commitment-phobes and laugh at the sisterhood, but how often do we really stop to wonder why? More importantly, when we end up alone, is it really gonna be that funny anymore?
When I was 13 I realised something. I will never have to be alone if I don’t want to. There will never be a time when someone does not want to be with me. I don’t say this with any self confidence or ego attached, it’s simply a fact. I think that’s one reason I feel okay with running away. I know that when I tire of running, someone else will be there to begin pursuit again. There’s no fear (yet) of having to run the remainder of the course solo. I run because I can.
The first “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative boy who played me for a fool and left me embittered and angry. The second “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative man who played me for a fool and left me more embittered and angrier. The third “love of my life” was an abusive, manipulative boy who took every shred of confidence and self respect I had left.
I run because I know better.
The first “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative boy who played me for a fool and left me embittered and angry. The second “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative man who played me for a fool and left me more embittered and angrier. The third “love of my life” was an abusive, manipulative boy who took every shred of confidence and self respect I had left.
Sometimes I run simply by my dating choices. I date men who live hundreds of miles away. I date men who are gone 4 days a week. I date men with a history of philandering and pandering. I try to make impossible situations work so that it looks like I’m standing still, but I’m not. I run even when you can’t see it.
I get a sick feeling in my stomach when my freedom is threatened. Not being able to go where I want, see who I want, do what I want, terrifies me. Having to check in makes me feel contained. Knowing someone else is affected by my actions makes me feel guilty. Being limited in any way makes my chest tighten and my head hurt. I have to be able to be the one who decides who, when and where. I run because that’s what wild things do.
There’s excitement in new romance. There’s a thrill in not knowing who you’ll meet or what will ensue. It’s a rush to walk into a room and know you have your pick of the litter. It’s comforting to know that if you find something better, even just temporarily, you can venture freely into new territory. I run in case there’s better terrain up the road.
There’s this man who loves me. He knows everything, judges nothing, and loves me completely. And he’s not alone. There have been and continue to be those who want nothing more that to love me with all they have. They want to give me the world. And that scares the living crap out of me. What if they figure out I’m not worth it? What if they realise how much more they deserve? What if they leave me and no one else ever loves me that way again? I run because I’m not sure I’m worth it.I run. And I’m wearing holes in the bottoms of my shoes.
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WOW,WOW WOW.. this could have been written, by anyone who is emotionally unavailable…. Thank you for the wonderful insight.