The path

When I run, they run.

For about two years I was overwhelmed. All emotions were buried deep and felt numb. I used to drive for miles and miles to escape the emptiness.I used to have an old car and was averaging about 3000 miles a month. I used to lie to my parents that I was going out to meet friends. Wanted them as far away from my business as possible.

I used to fill a 20 oz. mug with hot coffee, put it in drive and just gun it. My point was to not come home before 11 pm. That was a weekend ritual. Beyond my control. It was a way to escape the bitter reality of loneliness and the black and white. But that situation never changed. The emotions and reality were there. They were riding next to me like a loyal German shepherd, who enjoys to stick his head out the window.

I had the answer to the most dreadful questions, but I dare not ask. “What did you do this weekend” they used to ask me. I deserve an Oscar for the millions of times I played it off like it was the most interesting weekend. I used to come up with drinks and parties at the homes of nonexistent friends. Travel the mightiest of places and be the center of attention to nonexistent crowds.

The emotions tun, with you. No matter how fast or how far, they’re always there. Mark Manson says that emotions are a feedback system. I believe that. They’re like a check engine light that won’t go off. Until you open the hood and realize the engine is burning oil and is almost running bare. My engine was actually overheating, but my car was running just fine among miles of empty highway.



Categories: The path

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