She’s lost.
The girl who wore the pink neon cowboy boots.
Can you help me find her?
I’m putting up missing posters,
tree by tree.
I think she ran away because she never felt quite free.
She’s lost.
The girl who wore the pink neon cowboy boots.
Can you help me find her?
I’ve been going door to door,
everything’s turning out to be an empty drawer.
I think she ran away searching for more.
–S.
Millions of people but the city feels too small for us both.
I drive up the coast,
and try to get lost in the country,
I’m looking for the place where you might still love me.
I ask for directions,
I even buy a map.
At a rest stop in Texas,
it hits me,
it’s a wrap,
and that’s that.
–S.
I run.
I turn every corner.
Mix up the number of lefts,
and the number of rights.
Down the hills,
and up the stairs in flights.
I run,
but it doesn’t matter how many turns,
or how fast – even when my sides burn,
because I always run right into myself.
I change up the paths, but they’re never any help.
–S.
I don’t really remember running.
I’m sure I did as a child, and was forced to during the annual fitness test, and for certain gym class activities.
But you know your brain can block out traumatic experiences, so I’m sure that’s what happened.
I always saw it as something only ‘skinny’ people could do, so why bother?
I walk at least an hour every day now and it never fails that I see at least one person running.
For a second, those old feelings hit me:
You can’t run.
You’ll never be able to run.
You’ll never have a runner’s body.
On and on they go.
Lies that I tell myself that I’ve collected over the years – I don’t even think half of the statements are true.
So, I called bullshit today.
I’ve known since last night that I was going to attempt to run today, so I stalled all day.
Around 5p, I was hitting the – yeah, I’m tired of working out every day, mood, y’know – good old self-sabotage.
Then I walked half a mile to the Elementary School behind my house – skinny women in sports bras, flat stomachs showing, everywhere on the track.
The Universe must hate me.
And then my feet hit the pavement, and something happened.
I ran.
I really believed that I couldn’t – wholeheartedly.
Like I really thought I’d make it about 5 steps and pass out. Roast in the Texas sun like a glazed honey ham – only to be found in the morning by a bird taking a shit.
I ran a total of .75 of a mile.
Something big happened.
Something shifted in me.
I thought of every time that I said NO to something because of my weight without even trying, but today I said YES to a future of trying.
I’m not a runner. Nor am I skinny. Nor do I have a runner’s body, whatever the fuck that is, but I ran today and felt alive.
–S.
Have you ever wanted to stuff everything you could into a backpack and get on the next bus running?
Look out of of the window until everything blurs into one?
Not even have to think?
See if the wind feels differently against your skin somewhere else. See if the sun rises using different colors. See if the smile that people give you actually reaches their eyes. Find out if the night sounds play a different melody.
Does the moon still watch you?
I am here,
but I am also on the bus.
I am still running.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 