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Running Toward the Light (Part One)

The continuation of When Sex Becomes Validation

Wild thing…let me stand in your light, show me what it’s like to be free.

I roll my neck and close my eyes.

Liberation sounds like you.

* * *

The concert was lovely. Magical, even. I had never listened to that band before but I knew any band that David loved, I would love too.

It had been a long day of adventure in San Francisco. Day two crossed off the list. Night two was next.

David knew I wanted to be bougie and take an Uber back to our temporary home, but he knew how to save a coin.

We arrived at the bus stop.

“Think about all the money you’ll save,” he says.

I’m down to take the bus. I’m down to take it with him. And while I had just gotten promoted to Senior Account Executive with a salary increase and Christmas bonus, I chose to save that coin, only because it’s easier to do with David.

The night before was exhilarating, but I played this game before. I am the type to attach to those who give me little to hold on to, who give me enough light to see at the end of the tunnel, and instruct me to run. I run toward that light. I know it’s there. In order to escape from reality, to escape from pain, I retreat into the light I see in others. Create stories. Fantasies. Let them consume my every thought. Become overwhelmed by their desires, their hidden truths, the energy emitting from behind their fear.

I was running toward David’s light. And I was running fast.

As we stood under the moonlit sky at the bus stop, the city’s enchantment lit a flame inside me. The experience with David as a whole was wonderful. From covering many destination spots, to running on the beach as he hung on my back, his legs in my arms, his arms around my chest. A day to be free. A day to be wild.

With his breath next to me, soothing me, I felt like I could find peace in him. I began to lay my head on his shoulder. As I lowered my head down and tilted toward him, my perfect moon landing was shrugged away.

“I don’t do intimate,” he says.

Hurt by the denial of his affection, I stood quietly. When the bus arrived I walked ahead of him, boarded and stood by as he took his seat. Shamed in my stupidity. How could you think this was anything, Robert? Thrown off and crazed by his rejection, I moved to the back of the bus and took a seat, away from him. I wanted to be petty. A drama queen. A messy bitch. I was trying to send my message by pouting like a child.

Once I sat down, I turned my head left toward the window and zoned out to the cars passing by. Every single pair of headlights like lullabies, soothing me as I pulled my tired, sulking self together. I placed my right hand over my left forearm and stroked it, telling myself everything will be fine.

“I might be falling for David,” I thought.

Then I look over and there he is, taking the empty seat next to me.

My pride is hurt. But here he is. He came back.

David laid his head on my shoulder.

We sat like that the whole ride home.

* * *

Wild thing…I can’t help but sway to the beat of your own sound.

Never let me go.

I hope you’re falling for me too.

to be continued…

Image by Noemi Possible.

More related articles:

When Sex Becomes Validation
How Embracing My Femininity Released Me from My Ex-Lover’s Approval
Winter as a Time of Healing

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