Run Shawn, run!

  It's been a weird day, I've been motivated and excited one minute then fighting back tears the next.

  My husband and I have to live in the same house for a few months although the marriage is over. My main tactic is to avoid interaction.

  I needed out, so I got a Subway sandwich and parked at the park to eat. As I pulled up I saw a bicycle leaned up on a wooden fence, and near by, a young man, stretching.  Beware the lady in the red Taurus.

  My thoughts developed slowly, this is how they unfolded. As I unwrapped my sandwich it smelled like school lunch. I could smell and feel the comfort of school. School was welcoming and warm so different from home. I thought about all the years I've felt less than. I thought, why do I know the people I love so well, everything about them. I care about what they're thinking and feeling. I care what happened to them today and everyday since they were born, I care what their favorite food is and what they believe, yet not know myself, never put myself first. Then I felt guilty for eating a sandwich when my husband wasn't, even though I'd heard him in the kitchen feeding himself. Then I just started saying," fuck you! fuck that!" over and over in my head, then my victim ran by...

  I focused on him. I thought about his life. Whatever was happening in his life he decided to ride his bike to the park, and run. Lap after lap, each lap getting wetter and redder in the face.  For HIM!  My next thought was, I'm strong like that! If I put my mind to it, I could run 5 laps. I could start riding a bike!

  I watched him as he walked his last lap to cool down, with my hand on the door handle. Oh shit! How many times have I done this kind of thing? I make myself so nervous!  It's brave,  it's stupid,  it's a huge emotional risk!

  And then I was face to face with him. I said " I wanted to tell you that you inspired me and made me feel better" Then my face went all ugly and I blubbered some stuff about divorce and feeling displaced and blah, blah, blah. When I finally got control of myself, he spoke. He told me he was feeling the exact same way last year at this time. He would come and run with his dogs and I should try to walk it at first. We exchanged names.

  I said  "sorry, I didn't think I was going to cry"  he said  "hey, it just means you're real" which is the most perfect thing he could have said. It's what I'm striving for, to be a truth teller, to love myself and to be real.

   Sometimes real looks ugly.