Saturday, March 14, 2009

Learning to Run

I don't run on sand, really. Mostly, it's because I don't run--not for running's sake, anyway. Only if I'm chasing after something like a ball or a disc. Or a person.

You talked about running on sand like maintaining that solid friendship with an ex. Until now I could only nod along to your words with feigned understanding and false commiserations because I had never tried to do it. Don't get me wrong; I'm friendly with exes--friends, even--but never best friends like before the break-ups. This time is different. This time there is something about that friends'-girl-turned-romantic-interest-turned-girlfriend-turned-ex-turned-who-knows-what that won't allow me to just let go.

I mean, if she and I were honest with each other, or if we took the world's perspective as any kind of reflection of truth, we would say that we are more than just friends. But whatever we are, and regardless of my desire for more, I SO badly want to retain this friendship. I am afraid of what I am leaving myself when she moves out and on, but for the life of me I can't back away from this connection.

We have been through far too much together, and the Universe has said in Her many ways that she and I are meant to be together in some form. We dated through earthquakes, car accidents, flat tires, near deaths, and She showed us that we could move through these things unscathed. For me, though, the biggest sign came after the break-up. The end of my relationship with her knocked me off balance in my friendship with you, and at the time of your accident, I had decided to push her out of my life and to call you for a game of hoops. But She burned this from possibility.

For a while, I have reflected on this gut feeling that she and I are meant to be together. This feeling has been too strong to dismiss or reason away as mere infatuation or fantasy, but now I fear that I am holding onto something that she let go a long time ago. I have held it in my lungs for so long that it trapped some infection last week, and now my body needs to purge it in order to be healthy again.

I wish you were here to talk me through this. I wish you could advise me on what to do. I could really use some Mick and Rocky-style coaching on this one. I don't want to be chasing after anything anymore. I want to run on sand for running's sake and not because I hope that one day this relationship will work out. I don't quite know how to do that and I'm not sure if anyone but you could help me figure it out.

Today, like yesterday, I went to the beach and walked. I have to walk now because my lungs are too weak and my breath too shallowed from illness. While I was there, I remembered the days of sand tunnels, frisbees, and coronas that you and I shared last summer...and I remembered my first night with her. Wet-cold and warm blues and "letting her win" our race down the beach, and magic. She and I have run on sand together once before; I am gearing myself up to run again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

i'm glad you could write this, and glad you're walking. love you. -sarah