Writer’s Note: I’ve had writer’s block for a few weeks, starting blogs and not being able to complete the storyline to satisfaction. And the thing about writer’s block is you never know how long it will last, or what will be the release. In this case, today, it was a statement made about me by a fleeting person in my life. I’m calling this blog fiction writing, inspired by real life events.
I was told I’m looking for a reason it won’t work. A reason out before the beginning. I’m looking for the crack, the break, where there isn’t one. Nathan said I’m one of those girls.
But I didn’t protest. I didn’t sharpie a poster board and stomp the capital of love to prove my dedication to finding it instead of running from it.
I merely said “I’ve never been told that before. I don’t find it to be true.”
But then I thought of you. Then I thought of me. Thought of the reasons I’ve pushed you away.
So I told you, I’m ready again. You asked what happened. I gave you words, but not answers. I spoke in vague. I didn’t say Nathan.
You didn’t actually need the answers. Your words back to me were an open-arm embrace wrapped in hope.
You didn’t push me away. You pushed in. And I thought, how kind. People aren’t kind in this way usually. It would have been easier to be upset at me for the push back I’ve done so many times. To consider the false starts, the dead ends. But you didn’t. Maybe that’s why I always come back. Your responses surprise me. But there’s a stability in the surprise.
Maybe I should have protested to Nathan. Said I’m stable. Said I’m not one of those girls. But maybe he would have said I’m am and I’m not yet ready to hear that. But at least now I’m ready to see kindness. To accept that some people are meant to be runners, and some people are meant to be a runner’s home. And for me, he was neither. But I have hope that maybe I’ll rest here for a while. I like how kindness feels.