This Isn't Rocket Surgery

.Tay.

I was breathless. My lungs desperately reaching out for any ounce of oxygen they could find. I was panting as my feet pounded the ground beneath me; my scuffed old vans the only thing between me and the rocks and gravel that was scattered across abandoned street I was running down. The Poughkeepsie Spring breeze whipped my hair back off my face; my fringe long tangled amongst the mess of my tousled locks. They were still damp but the slight humidity made light work of drying them off. My skinny jeans sat heavily on my hips; I didn’t let the water that had soaked them through slow me down. My oversized singlet flew behind me; one side of the straps hung down my upper arm with my bra strap. I didn’t make the effort to correct it.

I looked around at my surroundings as I sprinted; the trees and the houses only just starting to look familiar again. The homes of my neighbours all looking identical to the next; same square building, same charcoal collared roof tiles, same oak tree in the front yard and same ugly off white picket fence.

I slowed my run to a jog as I approached the old playground. I slammed myself up against the fence that now sat around it; curling my fingers around the wire that held back the children of the town from playing inside. I rested my forehead against it; focusing on the abandoned swing sets, the merry go round and the jungle gym with the slide that was long gone from rusting through. The playground held many memories. First meetings, first kisses first everything. It held so much significance to my relationships with so many people. It was a place of not only childhood games of tag or catch and kiss; of racing each other down the slide and competitions of who could swing the highest. No. It was the place where promises were made. Promises that I was afraid I would never be able to keep.

I casted my memory back to that day. That day that was just four years ago now. The day I had my heart broken for the first time. The day that my boyfriend had told me that he was seeing someone else. The day that my world came crashing down. The day that I ran away for the first time; ran away from the bets thing that would ever happen to me.

I remember sitting at the top of the jungle gym; 14 years old. It was winter. I remember I was wearing the biggest sweat shirt I could find. One that I had gotten for my birthday that I was told I would ‘grow in to.’ I had my legs tucked up into it as well. My arms wrapped around my legs; tears finding their way down my wind burned cheeks. I remember he climbed up beside me. I remember him holding me close; telling me that everything would be okay. I remember him kissing the top of my head and calling me beautiful. He held my hand, saying that that asshole was a moron for choosing anyone over me. He told me that he would always love me and that he would always be there for me. And he made me promise the same. He didn’t realise that what I felt for him was different to what he felt for me. I could see how he felt. It was written all over his face; I could find it I every sweet gesture he made towards me and I knew for certain when he kissed me. It was nice and innocent and perfect. He smiled at me with such sincerity that it made me feel so guilty.

I remember I sighed and slid off the jungle gym onto the bark underneath me and I ran. I ran away from him.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this again. Doing that again.

Running away. Running away from the best thing in my life. Running away from my best friend; from my soul mate, from the love of my life.

I squeezed my way through the gap at the bottom of the fence; where the wire had been shoves back it was folded to create the smallest of openings. I walked slowly; wrapping my arms around myself. I sat down on one of the swings and sighed. I kicked the bark.

I was running away from him.

Jordan.