It’s Just A Walk

I ran a marathon I never trained for…
full force
because that’s what you told me was needed.

I had different plans for that day.
For my life.
I put those in a box on the sidelines and laced up my shoes.

And

even though I forgot the sunblock,
I still I ran
fast
towards you with all that I had

And as you turned from a speck in the distance to someone I recognized far before I met
your image grew larger.
and
as the finish line approached
I saw your face

stoic

Ribbon broken in half by my body given to you, I collapse and look up, unable to make you out.
Your features blended into the brutal sun glaring in my eyes.
Your outline was all I witnessed
that was enough
and so I laid there,
pride dripping from my face, soaking into the asphalt, I took a breath that I barely had left

I did it.

And as your shadow reached down, I felt the strength of your hand grip mine
you pulled me back up into the world
one that was now
somehow
different than the one I had left behind at the starting line
when the gunshot went off and the flags waved.

Things were different now, and my body was awash with relief that now that you would see
no words were needed
because intentions showcased that
I ran for you
towards you
to show you
you can have all that I have to give

The box of my needs on the sidelines remained

Silence between us
only the sounds of
your phone buzzing louder than the bees and flies swarming.
I continue to hold on to
that brief excitement
validating that this meant something
anything at all.

I lift my face to showcase a smile hiding the pain.
I joke to ease discomfort you never had
to allow you the space to see that you are worth it all
to me
to choose you
because that’s what I did

I chose you.

I chose to run a marathon towards a finish line where you stood.
Giving all of myself along the way.
Forsaking my instincts to turn around and sprint to safety.
I ran holding the memories and voices that howled
Mocking
Laughing…
reminding me that I am not worth the finish line
and that I certainly wasn’t worthy of the prize at the end.

Hoping that
your trust be restored
beliefs regained
and melting doubt that I would do it…that…
I did do it
would mean
would be
enough

I would have taken anything
Even the acknowledgement of the marathon itself.
Instead I watched as you
opened the bottle of water and drank it for yourself.

I had never run a marathon before.
Arduous
Socks sliding down shoes.
Panting turning into burned lungs.
I thought it would be enough because you told me it would be.

As I came to my senses, I soon learned that marathon was meaningless.
in fact
you didn’t even watch.
you were simply waiting for what really mattered.
I caught my breath and asked what you were thinking
To ask if you saw me. To ask what you thought.
Like a child begging a parent to “look what I can do!”

But instead you looked down and instructed me to double knot my shoelaces because this wasn’t over.
In fact, we had barely begun.

The whole time you knew.
You knew what you needed.
You knew what was to come, was the real test.

It was a walk.

A walk with you.
One that we needed to go on
right
the fuck
now

No.

You weren’t done
with me being done

because what you wanted wasn’t my best
what you wanted was my pain on display
as proof

Proof that my blisters belonged to you.
Proof that I would keep going past empty.
Proof that the marathon stood only as a symbol
of willingness, of wanting, of sacrifice.

The proof you needed
was to ignore my comfort
so when all was said and done, you could tell me
that “more” was the expectation.

But I simply couldn’t.
I couldn’t stand.
or breathe
or cry
I couldn’t speak

I had nothing left.
Legs shaking.
Ankles swollen.
Throat unable to form syllables.

Sweat turned into tears as I realized and confirmed
”That' wasn’t enough, was it?”
you nod in confirmation that “All I’m asking for is a walk.”

Sickening shame blanketed my body in knowing that
I simply couldn’t continue
for you or myself.

The marathon.
With your name etched deeply into the medal
of participation alone
… it cost me all that I had

and I would never run again.

You knelt down
just enough for me to push
Hard
the hardest one that I could muster
betrayed by your promises of care
I watched you walk away in fury
and
felt the cramping of the piece of heart that you now held in your hands.

I cried for myself and my own stupidity
in complete disbelief
that
you knew the entire time
the marathon was simply the preparation
for a test

that I was destined to fail