Running

I wish I ran track as hard as I run from myself. At first I never really know I’m running from me until ironically I began to feel those clear oxygen deficient symptoms. I’m laughing because I never really realized that i was experiencing similar mental “out of breathness” till now. I start feeling like im suffocating, so I run harder. And almost as if  have deprived my brain for oxygen too long, I began to experience a mental lightheadness characterized by pure delirium. My thoughts start racing a mile a minute, probably hoping that the harder it pumps them out the greater the chance coherence and sanity will return. Then just like that everything fades to black and numbness slips over me comfortingly.

 I ran so hard but in the end I wasn’t fast enough. I collapse on my bed and she catches me and accosts me. “Why are you running from me?!” I try with all my might to roll over but my body just lays there for my brain is too depleted, too deprived of oxygen to direct my body to flee, even if just to face the west wall. “I hate you, I hate you, LOOK AT MEE!!” I stare. I think about those good ole sleeping pills and the prospect of just slipping away for a few. She cries. I stare. She’s tired. I stare. She throws her hands up and turns from me, broken. 

I sit up. I can feel myself breathe again. I see her, dressed in rags, hallow eyes, emaciated, cold. I begin to feel for her. Tears fall. 

I now have a choice. Care for her, bathe her, clothe her, feed her. Stroke her face tenderly, lovingly. Love her. Or Run. 

I choose the worst. I stand over her and cry. She looks up at me and cries too. She knows I care, but she cries because she knows that regardless I am going to abandon her. I turn. She cries out barely above a whisper, “wait.” And I run. 

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