The run was raw and emotional. Sweat covered my whole body like a insulation layer. Snot dripped from my nose to my upper lip. Tech-shirt sleeve rose to wipe it of every 30 seconds. That was the only constant of the run.
My form was all over the place. There was no pace. I ran too fast because I had lost the physical memory of slow and steady. So I sprinted and got exhausted. Stopped and walked and sprinted again. It continued all through the route I had just happened upon because my mind was occupied with too many thoughts to choose a route.
Maybe I stopped so that I could shout silence to my head. Each sprint escalated the tumble of thoughts in my head. It was supposed to clear my mind goddammit! But when I walked I checked the comments again, and the sting of pain and shame and insult hit my face and I didn’t know if it was sweat or tears that dripped on my lip.
One thought leads to another, and combined they form a draft theory, which leads to a conclusion and a counter argument. The doubt starts shadowing the first thought and and another hypothesis rises, but then a memory of another experience demands to be taken into account. The spin is so fast and all these thoughts so many. What was the original thought again?
I have lost the truth. I think I have lost myself, but I cannot be sure. I don’t remember if this is me. You didn’t fall in love with this.
I used to bounce. Laughter like spring drizzle rained out of me lightly and constantly. That person you’re trying to reach is not available right now.
I am so tightly wound that one little thing launches me deep into fight or flight mode. In the age of attacks I am fighting for my own truth, but it slips and drops and cracks into a million unrecognizable pieces. Was I ever Bounce? What if your comment is right?
I am confused. Who am I, what have I become?