"it's all in the past"

It’s been 53 minutes since I’ve arrived home, picked up laundry and sat at my desk, finally done with my day. My sweat drenched shirt clings to my back as the baby hairs caress my already dried forehead. Our conversation from earlier today plays over again in my mind… just as it did 53 minutes ago when I tried to seemingly run away from it at the gym. Level: 6.5. Time: 30 minutes. Incline 1.0. Today, for the first time in weeks, you made me laugh, as you always have. We share one of those lighthearted, potentially flirtatious conversations every few weeks… when you’re back in LA from Madrid, or London, or Australia and in the moments or days following, I can’t seem to let go your sense of humor. Of wit. Of respect. Your greeting alone: “Are you engaged yet?” yielded not only a chuckle, but a reminder of the boundaries we will never cross. After all, you are in essence a stranger and I am in love.

But I ran today - without boundaries, without aches, without hesitation - to flee from the disgust I felt with myself. For holding on to what was in the past, and for letting you back in. I know you will never take advantage of the crevice you’ve managed to grasp in my heart and you’ll let the miles and the minutes distance us until that foothold has slipped… before you come sauntering back into my life with your easy swagger and flawless… everything. I run from my inner demons, the demons of a twenty year young’n never fully prepared for the responsibilities and repercussions of a life she could only dream of just years ago. You know this, and that’s why you let me go.

Thank you.