Enough WIth The White Horse Already!

I never believed in The One. Whomever you choose to marry....well, you make each other The One.

Wise words and a huge relief for this City Girl that had been inundated with messages of Finding The One and Searching For Your Soulmate since she was a little girl.

I recently sat down to lunch with a friend and poured my heart out about love and relationships, marriage and other scary grown-up topics, and verbally processed through major life decisions that had been swirling around my thoughts. And the wisdom bomb she dropped was a huge relief.

Choose wisely whom you intend to be Your One and Only, but know that whomever you choose may not look exactly like The Knight in Shining Armor.

Some men are just men, not constant heroes who respond to my every whimper and sigh. And that's more than OK.

It was good to hear that the one we all look for – as well as all the other things in life one hopes will happen – may not look exactly like Prince Charming on His White Horse, but could instead look like real life.

And real life may actually turn out to be better than the fairy tale.

This Not Knowing Has Its Charm

I plan. I make lists. I make lists about making lists. I plot. I scheme. I will shed the brightest of lights on every last detail and nuance of every situation I enter. And I always have a plan to somehow master whatever I put my hand to.

You can't do this in relationships. Not possible.

I have a new mantra I'm trying out that basically entails letting go, ditching The Plan, and just letting whatever will be be. And I am taken aback at how quickly I've adapted to my new life slogan. Yet again, I find myself in a relationship, but this time with a new game plan in that there is no plan. I have no expectations, no designs on the man, and oddly enough no worries.

My heart is a kite tethered by a string of wisdom.

It can go where it pleases, but is ultimately guided by the experiences and smarts I've gained in my 32 years of living. And this not knowing of what will be has its charm. This not knowing is OK with me. Every once in awhile it may just be alright to not know every detail of every little thing that is yet to come. It may just be the right thing to be in dark for once.

Giant Baby Steps

So many times in the past couple months I've clicked over to this blog fully intending to write some revolutionary post about being kick ass only to sit in front of the computer screen, sigh, and then close the window. I would read my latest post and realize I had nothing to report. Nothing noteworthy to shout about to The Interweb. Life was....well, exactly that. Life was.

And then somewhere, in the daily struggle to remain on my feet, to breathe in and out all day long while arguing with The Light In My Eyes to either become the man he should be or go away all together, a seed of hope was planted. Through the emotional haze, and the fog that surrounds the act of "going all in", a glimmer of hope twinkled bright enough to catch my heart's eye. A twinkle just bright enough to help this City Girl regain her balance and catch her breath.

Every day and every night I've been hearing sweet, soft words that say, "Stay here a little longer and just keep with these baby steps."There are distractions galore that I could glom onto, but this City Girl is too busy chasing the twinkle. Too enamored with the possibility of it reflecting off of something greater than itself. And too in awe of the fact that when I turn back and try to mentally relive select moments from the past my eyes can only see that those steps that seem baby-sized are really the footsteps of a giant.

Us

"I don't know if you need someone better, maybe just different." Part of a conversation I had a couple months ago with The Light In My Eyes after confronting him with the obvious truth: our relationship was starting to unravel right in front of Us. Now it's a leftover clue that still echoes in my head that will probably be the key answer to some future question. A little remnant that still has yet to be sorted out.

It's always sad when you know a relationship is coming to its end; like watching someone die. You can actually see the light fade away.

It was a mutual decision prompted by a lot of talking that sounded sad and was wishfully hoping that one of Us could magically make all things right again, because the bottom line was (and still is) that we loved each other. And it may take months before this City Girl can truly makes sense of all the details of Us. The Us that made both people better in the end. The Us that loved. The Us that grew up together for a time. The Us that is leaving the future open-ended.

And while the Great Sadness has come and gone and still comes around now and then for short visits, this little City Girl's heart is still open. It's still strong. And it's still ready and waiting.

Love is...

Love should look like this: patient, kind, not envious or seeking its own. It should also believe all things, bear all things and it should never fail. To which I would like to add an addendum here: love should be the correct choice you make every moment of every day. And this City Girl is finding out that if you really love someone the decision is an easy one to make.

I’ve found in the past that loving certain people, be they friends or lovers, was sometimes a difficult one. Truth be told, at times it was agonizing. But since meeting The Light In My Eyes, even though there are tears amid the times that call for patience or kindness, the correct way to handle any situation has been so easy. The choice to be patient has not been a difficult one. The choice to be kind has come so naturally. And the decision to bear all things has just felt like the right thing to do.

While it may be uncomfortable at times, it is so sweet to be finding out what love truly is...

Doing Life Together

Last week I went on what turned out to be a crazy, intense road trip to my boyfriend's sister's wedding. The trip started on Tuesday night and didn't end until Sunday night, where we both felt that we were clawing our way to the finish line.

Now, this road trip was intense for a number of reasons: family getting married, surprise visits from old friends, meeting every single one of his relatives, celebrating the last birthday of his twenties, very little sleep, concentrated time together in the same house for days on end, me trying to make a good impression on his family for days on end, and the fact that it was DAYS ON END with zero down time....

Heh.

The overused phrase of the weekend in all the speeches, chit chat and toasts was "doing life together." As in, "We are so happy to get to do life with them." Or, "We just love doing life together." This phrase, which later became a little joke between this City Girl and The Light In Her Eyes, really does sum up rather well what we're all doing as a whole. Every single one of my friends and family members and I are doing life together.

Doing life together. I couldn't stop hearing those three words echo in my head all last week and even now. 

Since returning from the land of all things love and marriage related, the boyfriend and I had a long processing conversation about IT ALL. There was a lot to think about, a lot to be said. Still, all I can hear in my head is one question: who have I been doing life with? Who should I be doing life with? Have I chosen quality people that I want by my side to go through this journey with me?

I haven't made any rash decisions. I haven't cut people out or added any new people in. It's just a question that has been circling my brain ever since that crazy, intense road trip...

Bringing out the best

I wanted to post this on Valentine's Day, but I got swept away on an adventure that day and since then time has simply gotten away from me. Cé la vie! And on that note, let's talk about love.

I had a conversation with my dad over Christmas that brought me to tears in a matter of seconds. We had said maybe three sentences to each other and with that my eyes were overflowing and my heart crumbled to pieces. Now, I've had a great many memorable conversations with my dad, but this one will probably be burned into my memory forever as it has changed the way I look at love. Possibly for the rest of my life.

In case you hadn't noticed, my recent view of love has been somewhat skewed. Okay...heavily skewed. I never did like the label "pessimist". I always preferred "realist". And when it came to love, I had taken a rather frank view on the situation. I left most of my feelings locked up and was decidedly resigned to the fact that most relationships I had endured had only brought out the worst in me. Therefore, all my future relationships would probably look the same way, bringing all my insecurities to the surface for all to see. Feeling extremely justified in this thought process due to all my past "research", I made my opinion known to my dad mid-conversation with a flippant wave of my hand, as if I were the pro in this arena. In fact, I think the words I chose went something like this:

"Well, if I've said it before I'll say it again, if you want to see the worst parts of yourself come out get in a relationship ASAP."
 
(Charming, no?)

And I would have held to this theory had my dad not followed up my comment with a few thoughts of his own:

"Relationships should bring out the best in you, too."

That's all it took. My mouth hung open. My heart slowed to a turtle's pace. And my eyes filled with tears. I was speechless. My emotions came rushing to the surface so fast I had no choice but to change the subject immediately, fake a yawn and pour myself another cup of coffee so I could turn around in the kitchen and quickly wipe away the tears that had started to roll down my cheeks.

Now my dad's accumulated wisdom in numbers can be boiled down to this:
A husband of over 30 years
A trooper of life for 1,642 months
A dad to me for the past 10,950 days

So, how could anyone with that kind of successful life experience under his belt possibly be wrong? How could I argue with someone who still looks at my mom, his life partner, best friend and soul mate, like she is still the light in his eyes? The answer was simple. I couldn't.

The shock of being so totally wrong eventually wore off. And with that, I allowed my theory to be obsolete, disproved and all together incorrect. I started to live with the idea that love could, in fact, bring out the best in people. Maybe even me.

Fast forward a few months and you'll find this City Girl not only living out her dad's theory to its fullest, but happily proved wrong every time she finds herself changing for the better all thanks to The Light In Her Eyes.

Go Team! Rah Rah Rah! And All That Jazz...

The worst part about breaking up with someone you really cared about isn't the break-up itself, but all the moments that come post break-up. Don't get me wrong, the moment itself is usually somewhat horrifying and uncomfortable. In most cases there are tears, wringing of hands, shifting your weight while trying to come up with words that have more syllables than uh and um followed by some sort of awkward good-bye. The thing that always sucks worse, though, than that whole parting-of-ways scenario are the days that follow.

Just a quick recap on how one gets to those post break-up days:
Once you round the bend of the starting line you will stupidly start to introduce your current love to anyone who is willing to shake hands. In fact, you'll even go so far as to tell everyone you ever met that your mornings are filled with sunshine and everything your dear lover does just makes your sentimental heart beat wildly. Life is good. Ah yes, the beginning of almost every relationship is always so bliss-filled and lovely that you forget how sad all those previous days were that lingered on and on. What days are those, you ask? Those are the post break-up days. The days spent filling in every person who ever met your ex-douche bag on how you are no longer together and responding to their sympathies with an, "Oh yes, I would love to meet Mr. X and go on a double date with you and Mr. Happy Pants."

Cut to this City Girl's reality:
This has been the past month of my life. Although, I can't really call the last guy a douche bag-a butthead on occasion, but not a douche bag-but our break-up was the awful kind. It could have been amiable if neither of us was "feeling it" or if things really weren't working out and it was just time for us to face facts, but that wasn't our gig. And every time I have to fill in just one more person on the heart breaking details of our he said/she said situation I keep getting the same response, "Huh. I'm still pulling for you guys." You guys. As if both of have been seen together about town lately. I've got news for these people! Hell, I've got news for the random readers of this blog, there is no "you guys"!

I will say this, though....I miss that guy. And I've tried to explain him away. I've had days where I pretend like I don't care what he does or where he goes. I've lied and told people that I'm totally ready to date again. I even agreed with a friend the other day that I was over him. But the truth is there's a cheerleader somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain that is waving her pom-poms wildly, rooting for him. She just can't help herself. She's too busy rah, rah-ing it up...

Don't Be A Hater

Ok, kids, this is just getting weird. I love a good random moment. I mean, c'mon, who doesn't?! But the number of random moments that have crowded my days lately is just astounding. And let me just say this: It usually takes me a solid day or two before those random moments actually register. So, it seems like every two days I am reliving all those random moments over and over again aside from all the new random moments that keep crashing into my daily life.

Let's review what just happened this morning. Mmkay?

I went to one of my favorite coffee shops this morning where I ran into some friends having coffee. The plan was to sit my tucas down and pound out some much needed design work for my new website, but instead ended up getting roped into a ridiculously long catch up/chatty cathy session. Meanwhile, a 78 year old woman (never mind how I found out that little nugget of info...) sat at the table next to us, every once in awhile chiming into our conversation, while she was waiting for her friend to show up. I was starting to think that her "friend" was never coming and that maybe she was just a lonely old soul with nowhere to go and nothing to do. But minutes later her imaginary friend appeared and soon after the three of us started packing up our things to head to lunch. Just as we started to step away from the table the old woman stopped me and told me not to give up on love. Mind you, we hadn't talked about relationships while she was there. In fact, the only time we talked about relationships was to rehash our friends past and now current relationship with a fabulous woman I haven't met, but already adore. A conversation for which she was not present.

Even typing out those very words now makes my breath catch in my chest and my eyes well up with tears. Who was that strange woman? And how did she know what had been circling round my brain and reverberating through my very being? I haven't exactly thrown in the towel on love, but I have definitely made it clear to friends who are eager to play matchmaker that my heart needs a break. Not to mention, I flippantly made a comment the other night that has clearly been owning my subconscious that basically implied I believe all my future relationships will end in ruin.

I haven't gone all out and become some sort of asexual being or tried to join a nunnery, but I may as well have tattooed the words "Love Hater" on my chest since my latest break up session. And I still can't say just how that 78 year old woman knew my story, but she said exactly what this City Girl needed to hear.

Over Easy or Sunny Side Up?

I've been thinking about my past relationships lately in light of yet another break-up. I was wondering if it was something I did or said. Or maybe it was him. Or maybe as Patti, the Millionaire Matchmaker, says: my picker is off. And while I don't have the answer as to why every relationship I've ever had didn't work out, I did discover something about myself.

Not including the most recent guy, I have never been with someone where I didn't find myself conforming my likes to theirs. In short, I'm Julia Roberts from Runaway Bride. Somewhere along the way I lost myself in all those lovers. I'll always know what style of eggs I like, but when I end up back at square one with way too much time on my hands I have to admit that I have a hard time remembering what it is I like to do.

A few things I can tell you, however, is that I never pay attention to or care about budget cuts that apply to firemen the world over. I will never want to move to the country to raise a brood of children/animals. I don't give a hoot about fast airplanes or cars. I hate talking about math and science. And I'd rather be rockin' a new pair of stilettos in the city than tramping through a muddy hike that always lasts hours longer than I anticipated.

I like pink. And I think I've been apologizing for it and trying to make it look like a different color for far too long...

Because I'm Cool Like That.

I've said it before and I'm saying it again today: If you want to discover all the awful, weak and pathetic parts of yourself then, by all means, dive head long into a relationship. And don't limit yourself to commitment. Even those affairs that cannot yet be defined as a full blown boyfriend/girlfriend situation can qualify. Just get yourself involved in any sort of connection with a human you find even remotely attractive, share a few intimate things, and you'll get to see all the sad parts of your inner being present themselves in the most horrifying of ways.

Jealousy. Selfishness. Neediness. Feeling left out. Loneliness. You name it, it will come forth amidst the most bizarre circumstances. And after all of those wretched traits have come to the surface the only things left to contend with will be Humility and Honesty. Humility can be easy to take on, since it only requires you to admit that you don't know everything. But Honesty... Well, Honesty can be a tough bitch to grapple with. It's all about being truthful with yourself, and in turn being truthful with your heart's current interest, about how many levels there are to your craziness.

But fear not! As a good friend said to me awhile ago, "You just need to find someone who loves your crazy." Because, like it or not, we all posses our own version of lunacy. The trick is to find someone who sees it, loves you through it and still thinks you're great. 

Have I found this someone? I don't know. Only time will tell me that and it insists on working at its own pace. In the meantime, I'm learning how to slow myself down, tame my bouts of craziness and try not to fall into that all-too-familiar slump of thinking I'm unlovable, because I know that even on my best days I'm still susceptible to being "cool" like that. *wink*

The Truth About Love

I was talking with a new friend yesterday about her current lover and their relationship and I found myself spilling all my secret shortcomings and all that I've learned through love. At one point she looked up at me during our conversation and said, "You're so wise. You know so much about relationships." To which I looked at her with shock and said, "Ha! Listen, anything I know now has been discovered through years of heartache, tears and bad decisions."

I  was thinking about our chat today and decided that I should make a list of all the truths I've learned in the past year from all my sticky and sometimes uncomfortable relationships, just in case I forget. The first truth on my list may seem conceited or odd, but it's a proven fact, kids!

1. Pretty girls don't have to pay. For anything. And they aren't lonely for very long.
2. There really are plenty of fish in the sea and they come along about as often as the wind changes.
3. Every relationship is hard, complicated and messy. All the other possible lovers out there that appear to be more perfect than the functional relationship you're already in are a fantasy. Relationship is just another way to say self-sacrificing hard work.
4. Love is a choice. The beginning of any relationship is fabulous, it's what comes after the beginning that proves whether or not you're made for each. You either choose to work through the reality of everyday or you cut and run.
5. Love is a choice everyday. Once you decide to stick it out with someone you have to consciously make that same decision every morning you wake up.
6. It is imperative that you be able to separate irritation from things that are hurtful. Nit picking someone does not foster a loving relationship. And excusing or purposely overlooking meanness will not bring out the best in either person. 
7. The statement "Long distance relationships are hard" is an understatement. At some point you have to be willing to severely sacrifice parts of your life to have time together. And even then it's sometimes tough to call that time together "quality".
8. You can't try to fit someone else's mold. It's impossible to recreate who you are or who you're meant to be. At some point the real you will come shining through, like it or not.
9. If you want to discover the worst, most pathetic parts of yourself that you never knew existed then get yourself tangled up in a serious relationships as soon as possible. 
10. Life is not like the movies. It's not supposed to be. The movies were made for our entertainment. They should not, by any means, be used as a guide to living life or finding love that lasts. As soon as you feel you are being spoon-fed that kind of crap, spit it out as fast as you can!

Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Six.

Lesson Six: He said. She said. Cut the chatter.

When I was a little girl I liked to pretend that I was the CEO of a company on the verge of a hostile take-over. I would hold multiple conference calls all day, shouting orders to lower level employees about how "this" was a rush and "that" had to get done by the end of the work day. My favorite part of the fantasy was the conference calls with multiple people where we all dispensed our wisdom on the subject at hand. I had watched my dad hold a number of professional phone calls as a kid, memorizing his every gesture. So, I knew exactly what to say to my imaginary conversational counterparts. Ah yes, conference calls were the best!

Now, however, my life has become one giant conference call. All day long my phone lights up while simultaneously making noise notifying me of the hundreds of people waiting to have a conversation in about fifty different ways. And I have no one to blame but myself for the constant barrage of communication. I wanted it. I was convinced that I needed it. My daily dose of advice, input, the constant clicking of tongues.

I realized this week that my childhood fantasy of talking all day long had become a nightmare. There was no light at the end of the tunnel that constantly reverberated with the hum of a million voices. No peaceful land in sight away from the white noise of conversing. And while my dad taught me the art of making a well delivered phone call, he also gave me good advice last year: "Stop listening to what everyone else has to say and just do whatever it is that YOU wanna do. Cut out the constant chatter, kid." 

So, I finally decided to take his advice this week. One year later, but I'm taking it nonetheless! I've ruthlessly stopped returning phone calls. I answer only the necessary emails in short and concise sentences that don't signal a reply. I've banished my phone to silent mode and have started leaving it in other rooms of the house, out of earshot. I've turned off. I've shut down. I've cut it all out. And I've come to a conclusion: I've known what to do all along, but stubbornly insisted on hearing everyone else out first. I don't need to have endless phone calls day and night in order to make the right decisions for me. But I do need to take a serious break from all the chatter.

Waiting for the phone to ring...

When it comes to big life changes the waiting part, the in between, can be excruciating. Relationships, moving, lifestyle decisions, you name it! It's not the actual change that will kill a girl it's the suspense that will do her in. Mignon McLaughlin said it best, "Even cowards can endure hardship; only the brave can endure suspense."

The excitement, the wonder, the thrill of the unknown...all great things until the suspense has lingered on and on. And then it's only a matter of time before it turns to agony, am I right?

Stage Five Clinger

First, let me just say that I hate with a passion how this blog has somewhat become my dumping grounds for all things love related. That being said, I have nowhere else to dump all these stories and I can't write as fast as I type. So, here it is.

Last year I mentioned that I had a certain someone that just wouldn't take the hint and leave me alone. Our relationship ended somewhat suddenly when he decided that he would go where the wind blew him. It blew him into someone else within a week of my leaving his city.

Charming. 

One would think that if you were with someone who lights up your life there would be no need for anyone else. Apparently, this rule does not apply to free spirited people. I think this is crap. And since I hear from him once a month (like clockwork!) I wonder if his significant other is aware of this. This irritates me. It plays with my heart (even though I never respond) and it makes me sad for her.

I told this guy in no uncertain terms that we were through. We were over. No friendship. No facebook. No IM. Nothing. And yet I still hear from this player every 30 days. I've resorted to ignoring him, because it seems to be my last card to play. However, it seems to go unnoticed by him....

What to do? What to do?

Hair Evolution

This year has been a big one for changes. Seems to be the common thread throughout all my days of 2010. I witnessed life being brought into this world, a handful of deaths of people who were family to me during my growing up years (as if those were actually over...), gallivanted around this country like I was on tour, made new friends, broke up relationships, dated various boys in various cities, learned things about myself (some things I liked, some I did not) and changed my hairstyle more times than Hillary Clinton.

The starting point.

I realized something the other day as I posted an album on facebook about my hair evolution: My hair has been my one thing I could control this year. The only thing, really. In a time when nothing is as it seems and everything around me changes in the blink of an eye, I've had nothing to hold onto. Every last thing I thought was predictable or under my control performed a circus act before my very eyes and contorted into something unrecognizable, unfamiliar.

New hair cut, take one.

So, what's a girl to do when her life has been glued to the ceiling and nothing is grounded? Well, this girl cut her hair. That's it. That was my big "I'll show you!" move. I cut my hair. And then dyed it. And then chemically straightened it. And then cut it again. There was some rhyme and reason to the first cutting. (I donated about 8 inches of my hair to Locks of Love in honor of one of the lives lost this year.) But after that, there was no semblance of common sense or thought put into the other actions. I only knew that I was determined–determined to do whatever the hell I wanted with what little bit of belongings I had with me at all times.

New hair cut, take two.

My hair currently looks like the edgier version of Julia Styles' haircut in the first Bourne movie. I'm happy with it. For now, anyway. And I like how with each new haircut I've either learned something or taken back a piece of myself that I didn't know was missing. This year has been a strange one, to say the least, and it's not over yet! There's still a solid 6 inches of my hair left. So, stay tuned.

Stickin' it to the man...

Today I have a bit of an issue. An issue I wouldn't normally bring up so publicly, but I'm at a complete and total loss. All and any feedback would be greatly appreciated. And before your opinions get too far formed, you should be warned that this is relationship stuff. The kind of stuff that is sticky, awkward and where feelings are involved.

Here's the scenario:
It started with a whirlwind romance (in a city that will go unidentified). I felt like I was out of control. I don't usually jump all in with someone quite so fast, but this time I did. We talked and talked and found each other to be crazyamazingwonderful. Fast forward to the part where (for reasons I'm not sharing on a very public blog) we didn't work out. Although, dearest readers, you can feel free to point the finger of blame in any direction but mine.

Initially, remaining friends was in the talks, but I knew that could never happen. So, slowly I began to let him down and told him that would be a bad idea for me. Since then I've heard from him every day. And I do mean every day. We're talking twice a day, every day, for the last week or maybe longer. I honestly don't know how long this has been going on. I've lost all sense of time.

That part I attribute to sleeping on planes, blow-up mattresses, floors, couches, etc. 

Wait. Where am I?

Anyway, my dilemma has been in the let down. How do I get rid of this Stage Five Clinger? The idea of sticking it to him, all direct, blunt and no-holds barred has crossed my mind, but there's a good chance that that sort of approach is entirely lost on him. Ignoring him has clearly not been effective. I'm at a loss. Aside from the reason we're not together, he's a decent guy. And at some point down the road, maybe (and it's a pretty big maybe) we could be friends. But right now ain't the time.

Relationships...sinking ships?

Relationships are messy. A well-stated comment made by a friend about a year ago. If I had known then that she would turn out to be right in every way I would have advised her to charge good money for advice like that! I wish she could have told me that I would be on a giant adventure of self-discovery, too.

If I had known that I would have packed differently. Ha!

On that note, any relationship at some point will turn out to be both fun and uncomfortable. Horrifying and exciting. And any really "good" one will have some sort of extreme dip in the road. Which leads me to my point, I took stock this morning on how many relationships I've had–carefully sorting through all of them–and I started to wonder if the old adage of relationships being sinking ships was in fact true. I've had serious relationships and fun relationships, none of which I am currently involved in. (Well, almost none.) And I got to thinking...when did those relationships, fun in the beginning, become work and then the work became a reason for one or both of us to cut and run? When did that ship begin to sink?

Moment of honesty (drum roll please): I sort of unleashed my wild fun side yet again in the last few months and found myself not having fun so much as I was out for revenge. All those ships that sailed or sank have no idea of the fun I've been having and yet I felt that I was somehow throwing it in their faces, showing them just how much better my life has been without them. And then came my moment of clarity this morning: I have become a sinking ship without relation. I'm sinking all by myself. And I may not be tied to anyone right now, but I will be again someday. And while I've gotten pretty good at seeing the cracks before hopping aboard, some things just aren't discovered until after you've set sail.

So, how do you keep a relationship from becoming a sinking ship?

The run-away child

I love running. For so many reasons. I don't get to do it as much as I would like, but when I do finally have some time to run it's sacred time. I used to run for training reasons or to punish myself for eating cheesecake or to tone-up or just drop a couple lb's. But now...now I run, because my soul needs it more than my body.

I've noticed a new pattern in my running. It's steady and it's steadfast. It's become my therapy. This year started out rough and got even rougher as the weeks turned into months. Relationships (on all fronts) went crazy, too many people passed away, and the process of letting go became too overwhelming at points.

Soon I found myself running all the time. Running to get over relationships gone awry. Running to clear my head. Running to keep from crying. (Turns out if you need to cry bad enough, you can still do both.) Running, running, running...

There have been times that I had myself convinced that if I just ran harder and faster I could somehow speed up time or leave reality in the dust. Other times I felt like I was doing it for freedom's sake. Because I could. And then there's today. Today will be no different from all the times before. I will, once again, be meeting in my synagogue of solitude as my feet rhythmically pound the pavement. Racing forward to clear my head, to keep from crying while escaping reality and for freedom's sake.

Today, I run.