Walking Woman
I had an English professor in university who used to call me that.
I walked past his house every morning for five years. My morning ritual consisted of taking a walk twice around campus, which was, in fact, in a loop known as ‘The Loop’.
“Walking Woman”
I wish I could live up to its namesake.
I wish I could walk away from half-hearted routines.
I wish I could walk away from anyone and anything that makes me feel less valuable than I actually am.
I wish I could walk and walk and walk until what’s been bothering me gradually feels like dreams.
I wish I could walk and scrape off all the bad feelings boiling inside — the hurtful words, the disgust, the frustration casted onto me by others for my quiet being.
I wish I could walk any time I feel displeased.
I wish I could walk and walk so that I won’t have to see anyone I don’t want to see ever again.
I wish I could walk away from misunderstanding to find people who would understand.
I wish walking meant burning not only calories but all traces of desire for self-harm.
I wish walking meant not only losing a dress size or two but also shedding the memories that poke and prod me, the ones that give me sharp pains in the abdomen and hurt me in the back of the head.
“Walking woman, wandering woman.”
I wish my name were either walking woman or wandering woman.
I wish I could walk and find companionship in nature.
I wish I could walk along the seaside; walk, walk, walk as if the seaside were a close friend reassuring me that the route I am on is the right one, that there’s nothing to be afraid of.
I wish I could walk away from cold, shallow and superficially cheerful interactions.
I wish I could walk away from an ever-changing world where humanity takes a back seat to money and social status.
I wish I could walk off the face of the Earth and find somewhere else.
I wish I had the courage to walk every day and to not come back to the same place or street twice just to feel the comfort of a refuge waiting for me.
“Walking woman.”
I wish I could walk away from work obligations.
I wish I could walk away from money.
I wish I could walk away from weighting friendship.
I wish I could walk away from faces and names that became too familiar, too quickly.
I wish I could walk away from work that doesn’t feel like work.
I wish I could walk away from criticism that does nothing for me.
I wish I could walk, walk, walk and sweat off the boiling anger within me.
I wish I could walk and walk and walk until what’s been bothering me gradually feels like dreams.
