I’ll run

Get up, kick yourself into gear, run.

You know that burn that you get in your legs when you’ve been running for a while? The one that comes from your body trying to keep you muscles working for longer by shooting pyruvite to you legs. The one that feels like you’re about to collapse and the reason you’re running becomes your only motivation. You know that burn?

Yeah, got it.

What does a man have to do to find himself running accross town in his work clothes at 7 in the morning? Knock-off a store? Kill a man? Find out the men with the black hats are coming to collect his debt? Maybe, but not this time, I’m not quite that interesting. I’m running accross town in my work clothes at 7 in the morning because I was a dick.

I am not a mean person. I like people, but sometimes it’s too easy to find yourself hurting them, because sometimes it’s pretty easy. At work it’s part of my job to know people, to be able to create something that will resonate with a certain demographic. I don’t like advertisements, but I’m good at making them, and I get money for it, not a hard decision. Hurting people can be like advertising, size them up, what are they wearing, their hair, accent? Wedding rings, fake tan, whitened teeth? Do the they act confident? Are they confident? How expensive is their watch/necklace/handbag. My friends at the agency say I’m the Sherlock Holmes of advertising. The information on it’s own is useless, that’s not where the skill comes in. You can look at a person all ou want, figuring out what kind of person they are is the tricky bit, but I’m good at it, so it’s easy to hurt people. T

That’s why I’ve hurt people. That’s why I’m running. That’s why I’m running accross town in my work clothes at 7 in the morning to my girlfriends house.

People argue, it’s something that can’t be helped, heaven knows I love a good arguement, but I always follow a code. Don’t be illogical, don’t get emotional, don’t hurt people. I tryo to always follow a code.

Except last night, I didn’t follow a code last night, I hurt people last night.

             PART 2

How can I be so insensitive she wants to know.

I didn’t mean to.

How can I say something like that and not mean to?

Because it’s easy, and I’m good at it.

I normally don’t make this mistake, but her brother drives me to the edge.

Men are insecure nowdays, I think men are easier to hurt than women. Have you ever seen an ad directed towards men that didn’t have the apotheosis of how that man sees masculinity? Women get it to, but not as much. If your average man sees an ad that doesn’t feed his bludgeoned little boy ego, he’s not going to go for it. I’m no anthropologist, but we should have seen it coming, because now are little western world is full of insecure men. Insecure fathers, insecure sons, insecure brothers.

Insecure men are easy to hurt. Especially when they’re trying to hurt you.

Especially when they’re trying to hurt your girlfriend.

He came to answer the door like the arrogant prick he always is, so I ignored it. The night went as expected, no one fought until the end. When he singles her out in a room and walks up to her with that smug look on his face, everyone knows what he’s starting. She looks at me as if she’s telling me to just leave it, well, no. If he tries to pick a soft spot with her, I’ll pick a soft spot with him, she knows the look in my eyes, she know’s what’s coming. If he opens his mouth, he’s gone.

He opens his mouth and starts quietly shredding her.

He opens his mouth and starts quietly shredding her, so I take him apart like an emotional surgeon. His divorce? You can bet that was in there. The bullies at school? You bet. The fact that he just might die alone, bingo. He’s stands in front of me with little, insecure man tears running down his face. He leaves, we leave.

That’s how I can be so insensitive.

            PART 3

Now I hear why I shouldn’t have said those things. Why I should’ve just let it be. She can handle herself, women can do that. She’s right.

But men are insecure.

Insecure things can break, snap even.  Just like me. I did, and she gets her own earfull. Not like her brothers, but cruel nonetheless. We get to her house, she gets out and walks to the door before I can undo my seatbelt. She turn her big eyes towards me and I see what I’ve done.

I’ve always thought of her eyes as little universes, dark and full of bright, twinkling little stars. I told her once that it was like an orchestra of tiny supernovas, stars dying, just go give her a twinkle in her eye, because she was worth that much.

Now those little universes are glazed and have their own tiny waterfalls, and it’s my fault.

I heard once that when two people fall in love their hearts join, that could be true, because if her hearts wounded, that explains how I feel now.

EPILOGUE

I sit at home on the corner of my bed shaking.

Why did I have to be so insensitive.

Why couldn’t I let it be.

Because it’s easy, and I’m good at it.

That’s not a good enough reason anymore, it never will be again.

Now I try to sleep, but pretty soon little, insecure man tears are streaming down my face. And pretty soon they give over to big, genuine human tears. So when I go to leave for work in the morning, I run.

Now I’m running accross town in my work clothes at 7 in the morning to my girlfriends house. I’m running because she’s worth it, I’m running to tell her I didn’t mean it, because I didn’t. I;m running to tell her I’m sorry. I’m running to tell how much she’s worth. I’m running to tell her I love her. I’m running through a street full of people, with big, sad human tears running down my sweaty face, but it doesn’t matter, because I can cry now, because she’s worth it.

Now every day, because I can cry, and because she’s worth it, I’ll get up, kick myself into gear,

And I’ll run.

Run, Little Man,

Run because you mean it.

Run, Little Man,

Run Because she’s worth it.

Climb, Little Man,

Climb because you must.

Climb Little Man,

Climb for her trust.

Swim, Little Man,

Swim a for much longer.

Swim, Little Man,

Swim towards her.

Now run, Crying Man,

Run just to show her,

She’s worth more than harsh words.

Now run.

Hello good reader!

The story you just read actually came froma dream of mine. As you can imagine, it wasn’t anywhere near as interesting, or understandable, but it left me feeling oddly emotional, and in it I remember running, and a few other vague details. I felt the need to write it down, and it ended up turning into what you just read. I’ll admit that I don’t normally like sharing anything emotional or personal with many people, so putting this story up was an interesting choice on my behalf. I don’t know if it’s that good, or even if it was worth reading, but I thank you for your time.