Remember when you were a little kid and you fell down and scraped your knee?
And mom comes over with a band-aid and the bactine?
And she tells you this will only sting for a second?
And the closer she gets, the further and further you scoot away?
Because you know it’s gonna sting for more than a second.
It may sting so bad that you scream.
Well. That’s what I’m doing. I’m scooting as far away from the pain as I can get.
The pain is so bad that I want to run away. To get as far away from that pain as I can.
Last night I didn’t run away.
Oh…I wanted to. In my mind I was running, running, running.
But in the end I went to a movie and came home.
When I told the hubs this morning how much I wanted to run away last night?
He said, “I’m sure you did. That’s your decision. But I won’t chase after you.”
He’s one who’s pushing me to “go through the pain.”
He wants me to go through the pain but he won’t be my safety net?
Or yeah, he’ll be my safety net as long as I don’t try and run from the pain when it gets to bad?
So tell me this.
My parents never stood up and fought for me. I could definitely not count on them when the pain was excruciating. They never chased me down when I was running (in whatever form it may have taken) and held me tight while I screamed.
Is my husband telling me the same thing? I don’t think so but the words came from his mouth. “I won’t chase after you.”
No wonder I just wanna stick a band-aid on the owie and forget it’s there.