You know why you run?
You run because you need to get away. You run because you need to escape the place you’ve found yourself in. You run because you’re afraid. You run because it’s what you know to do, what you have always done, and what you will continue to do. You run in hopes to leave behind the things that will always, always catch up to you.
That’s why you ran away to Baltimore, right? The city, with its bright lights and roadways outstretched like arms, was waiting to take you in and embrace you, so you could feel its rumble of a heartbeat as it held you close. But the sense of security that the city gave you was accompanied by an understanding that the things you have run away from will always find their way back.
Consider The Hurricane, for example.
Continue reading “A Haunting in Baltimore”
[This is part 6 in a series about shitty things I’ve done to people. You can read the original post here.]
To The First Guy Who Lost His Virginity To Me:
I’m sorry for pursuing you for the wrong reasons. When our mutual friend told me you had some interest in me, I stopped throwing myself at him and shifted my focus to you, not because I had a reciprocal interest in you, but because you were there. With most men at that age, I was a huntress, always on the prowl, stalking my prey, and jumping at the first sign of vulnerability. But you didn’t want to be hunted. Instead, you were there, at my mercy, waiting to be devoured.
I’m sorry for being so insensitive. When you admitted your feelings to me, I laughed and told you that you were wrong, or you were mistaken, or you were lying. I shouldn’t have fucked with your heart. I shouldn’t have been so close to your heart in the first place.
I’m sorry for being visibly frustrated after the 20 seconds of sex that we had. You didn’t need that. I remember the face my first partner made after we had sex. I truly hope you don’t remember mine.
I’m sorry for continuing to have sex with you. I wanted to get laid, you wanted to be close to me. I thought I was doing you some service by teaching you how to fuck. I knew it was wrong then, but I continued to do it.
I’m sorry for abandoning you. I abruptly and emotionlessly called it quits with you because I was unsatisfied. After that, we didn’t see each other for about a year. When we finally ran into each other at our mutual friend’s house, we awkwardly caught up. You were going through a hard time, and I knew it, but I didn’t acknowledge it.
I’m sorry for ruining our friendship. That’s on me. Not you.
[This is part 4 in a series about shitty things I’ve done to people. You can read the original post here. In the interest of protecting the anonymity of all parties involved, all names have been changed.]
Once upon a time, there was a girl. But to talk about the girl, I have to give you some much needed backstory.
It was 2004. I was fresh out of high school and I made the brave decision to attend college overseas in my father’s country of origin. Apart from visiting my family there once every other year, I had little knowledge or understanding of it the place. For better or worse, that mattered little in my decision making process. As my senior year of high school drew to a close, I had to choose between two options: go to my father’s alma mater in the city and rely on the unreliable metro rail system every day, or go abroad and experience as much as possible without restriction or retribution. I opted for the latter.
Continue reading “[4.] Love Or Something Like It”