Runaway

Here I am, with regret running down my face and confusion pounding through my head. I feel lost, scared, terrified, you name it. Your my phobia. I'm scared to tell you the truth, to tell you how I really feel because you'll leave, they always leave. My heart races every time I think of us and I panic. I'm not used to a feeling like this. What "this" is, I have yet to find out. My mind wants to shut down and shut you out for good. Although you always ease your way back in. Why should I feel threatened? If I'm such the independent woman I like to believe I am, why do I want you next to me?

Raw emotions peel me back layer by layer. Would it hurt less if I just ripped you off like a band-aid? Stopped everything before I get hurt? It has been successful before. I run until you can't find me anymore, completely out of existence and out of your life. I'll just save you from the guilt that you'll have when you tell me your gone. Let me leave first.

I stretch my muscles and get ready for the race. I'll run as fast as I can away from you. With every stretch I feel relief, I'll have no one to impress. No one to worry if they think of me as much as I do of them. I stretch out the worries of wondering what we are and where we're going. I crouch down ready to bolt away from any feeling I've had for you. But the gun never goes off, and as I look around in confusion of why I'm being delayed I see you. You have the gun. Why do you keep coming back? Throw the gun away or pull the trigger, so you can stop wasting my time. If your going to leave then do it now, because I seem to be running in the wrong direction.