Right at the moment I want to quit trying to run. I do. Really unpleasant experiences make me quit doing things. I'm afraid it may take over my desire to run.
I stopped feeling sympathy for giving students rides home on cold, rainy nights after that favor sent me to the hospital, torn and bloody from said student's dog. I love dogs, but now I'm terrified of large dogs. I just don't want them around me. For a while, this dislike extended to all dogs, a fact that my own poor dog had to deal with. She worked hard to get my trust back.
I used to enjoy riding horses, not that I had many opportunities to do so. Until that day I was thrown off a horse, landed on my head, and got a concussion. I'm not scared of horses, exactly. I've just discovered an intense dislike for the beasts. I don't know why I ever thought I liked them in the first place and I'll probably never ride one again.
Certain other things I've done, some recently, have caused me to develop an aversion to them as well. It was that bad.
I'm thinking about letting go of some relationships that apparently weren't meant to be. I spend too much time wondering what I did wrong, why I'm never good enough, and if it's too much to ask to keep in touch. I say relationships rather than friendships, because the former is a more casual term. For a relationship to be a friendship, there has to be a mutual interest in that bond.
I think I've overstepped my bounds, because some of my friends think of me as more of an annoying acquaintance who won't leave them alone. Realizing that feels like having a concussion all over again, complete with the resounding impact to my jaw. Maybe if I slip back into the shadows, my retreat and escape won't be so pathetically obvious.
Ooh, somebody got sucker-punched for believing. Again. That same somebody needs to understand that dreams rate right up there with fairy tales. Neither one will ever come true, baby. Take your pills and maybe you'll end up someplace where those fantasies can play out, because it's not gonna happen here.