Tired

“You can't run forever,” I heard myself say aloud.

Physically. Idealistically, nor emotionally. 

You can’t outrun memories, feelings, regret, nor the past. 

The past lives with us forever. It is who we are. Without the past we are nothing. Without the future we are never becoming. Becoming what? Well, that is the question. Can you ever truly become someone if you spend your life running? 

You can’t outrun your problems.

You can’t outrun your choices. The best you can do is accept the consequences. 

Knowing this, and unable to heed my advice is something I can’t run from.

Why?

Why is it that I can't do what I know is right?

Run, run, run. I am running?

From what?

Wait?

Am I running to?

If so, to what?

Am I moving too fast?

Am I moving too slow?

My mind is like a whirlpool, eddying in a chasm of doubt, and uncertainty. 

“You can't run forever.” I utter in disappointment. 

It’s time to make a stand. 

I look through the window, across my well manicured, yet native garden, and beyond the rundown and crooked wooden fence into the distance. The future. No! The difference between the distance and the future, is that I can see the former. 

A light rain and a heavy mist leave me feeling pensive. 

Why do I do this?

Why do I find reason to doubt my course? 

Is the life I am living not enough?

I am married. Deeply in love, and am loved in turn. I have a beautiful child, and a nice home. I have all the material possessions that I have aspired to attain. No more, and certainly no less. Yet, there is a yearning that boils within. It impels me forward, yet holds me back. It entices me, yet I am forewarned. Scared perhaps. All I know is that I am not chasing things. Possessions, don’t please me like others. Clutter, physical and emotional, confuses me, makes me feel inadequate. I am chasing feelings. I desire connection. To whom or to what, and for why?

I have everything. Don’t I?

“Daddy.”

Madilyn comes running into the room. Full of glee and happiness. Her smile caresses me like a soft summer breeze. “Daddy, look what I drew.”

It was then I noticed a piece of paper in her hand. I reached out, picked her up and she nestled in my lap. She held the paper out in front of us. It was a drawing of our family, standing in front of our house. 

“Do you like it daddy?”

I smiled at her smile. I embraced her, and squeezed her tight. “I love it.”

She smiled, squirmed out of my lap and went running through the door. Running into the future. “Mummy. Mummy, daddy loves the picture.”

The sounds of happiness, and her little feet faded, and I returned to my pensive mood. 

Maddy is my world. She means more to me than life itself. Without hesitation I would sacrifice my life for hers. I have always wanted to be a father. Growing up without one was the motivation to be the best father I could. Not that I knew what that meant. Then, or now. All I knew was that love was at the center of being a good parent, and a committed husband. 

I have made mistakes, and I have regrets. I don’t trust people who say they have no regrets. Such a statement is brash, bold and ill-considered. I mean, to live, and have no regrets. It’s not normal. 

I have heard people say, I “I have no regrets, because I wouldn’t be where I am today without those experiences.”

Surely, and this is purely a personal observation, you can feel proud of where you are, or what you have achieved in life, and have regrets. One doesn’t cancel out the other.

There are times when I wish I would have given someone more of my time. There were words I wish I never said. Actions, I wish I never took. But, my regrets don’t define me. No, it is not these I am running from, though I feel them deeply at times. 

My childhood was bland. I grew up in a normal family. I was a boring child. As far as I was concerned my childhood was normal. I have always been emotionally secure, and thankfully have not suffered mental health issues. I have always been grateful for this. These are most certainly not the cause of the mild malaise which I find myself in. 

I am financially secure, not rich, but I have enough money to pay my bills. Even though things get tight at times, it is not this that has caused my current mood. 

“Hey baby.”

It is the sweet voice of my wife, Eloise. She kisses me on my cheek, and hands me a hot drink. “Thanks, babe.”

She sits next to me and holds my hand. We love to hold hands. There’s not a lot of talking when we do this. Our closeness is enough to remind us of our love, and I love her so much. She is witty, and sharp. Funny, and impulsive. She is everything that I am not. 

“Where’s Maddy?”

“She fell asleep.”

“She has had a big day.” I squeeze her hand. 

Her voice is at the right pitch and tone. She reads a situation well. Her voice is always at the right pitch and tone. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “I am just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Us.” 

“Us?”

I squeeze her hand tighter and return the kiss. “I love you.”

She smiles and nestles head on my shoulder. It is not this I am running from. As far as I am concerned I have the perfect life. Well, almost. I am searching for something. But what? Before I contemplate further I finally admit to myself the one thing that has displeased me for some time. Work. 

I left school when I was fifteen, and I am now hitting half a century. I have toiled non stop. I have rarely travelled. In that time I have established a life for myself, a good life, stable and secure, but I fear that time will pass me by before I experience the world as I should. Leave no stone unturned. Embrace every moment. The cliches have worn thin. It is time to make a stand. 

“Actually,” I say, “I am not happy at work.”

She squeezed my hand as a sign of her acceptance. “I know. I can read the signs.”

I smirked. Of course she could, she knew me too well. 

“You can find another job.”

“But what about the bills?”

“We’ll be fine. We will make it work. We always have.”

“What about the house, and Maddy?”

“The house will be fine, and Maddy has us, so she will definitely be fine.”

I wasn’t running from anything. In fact, I had spent my life running so fast that I never stopped to think about what I wanted. I just responded. I did what I was expected to do. I caused no fuss. I am a law-abiding citizen. I vote. I give back to the community. I am socially oriented towards others. I provided for my family. I pay taxes. But these obligations and more, had come at the expense of me. 

A colleague once said to me, “look after yourself.” 

I said, “that is the plan. I am my priority. That is my focus this year.”

She patted me on my shoulder and laughed. “You won’t last a day.”

She was right of course. Now, I am on the ve of returning after a well-deserved break, if I do say so myself, and I am anxious. I have never felt like this before. I don’t want to return. I want to walk away. 

I am tired. 

Perhaps, I justify to myself. Perhaps If I don’t do as much. Let loose of the reins and let someone else take over.  If I can hide myself, then perhaps I can make another year. Yes, after some deliberation I convince myself it can be done. I made a plan. My plan is to say no. If I say no often enough then they will stop asking me. They ask because I say yes, so surely the plan will work. It has to. It must. 

We stare out the window for a long time. Her closeness made me feel connected. It made me feel appreciated and wanted. Yet, like a volcano, I could feel the rumblings of a speech coming. So, instead of trying to run away from it, I waited. Patiently at first, and then not so. I didn’t know  what she was going to say, but I knew it would be honest and to the point. I knew her thoughts would echo mine in some way, I just didn’t know how. Then, when she uttered her words, bodies settled into one another, and we stared through the window, across the green fields to the tree line, as the sun burned away the mist. 

“You have to make a decision, for you can’t run forever.”