Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
To fight or run?
One afternoon, I found myself sweeping my eyes across a room through a glass pane. A familiar figure caught my eye and I did exactly what my brain ordered me to do—run away. Gawd, I felt like a sissy for doing so.
I haven’t stopped beating myself for it ever since.
I know that I didn't have to afraid of a Shadow. I know that I have the right to be where I was. Yet, all my strength left me when I was about to push the door open and put one foot forward.
It was supposed to be easy. Find the room that used to be my haven. I know I could find it with my eyes closed. Afterall, how many times have I spent countless days in that room laughing, sharing food, and swapping stories with my friends? It was a room where I used to kick ass and wouldn't take “no” for an answer. It was a room that opened a lot of opportunities.
But that afternoon, I cowered over the simple task of knocking its door. Just the thought of sharing the same air as The Shadow left me suffocated, tainted. I ran away from it as fast as I could. When I finally stopped, I was shaking.
It was not remembering that scared the living daylights out of me. I can remember a lot of things now without wincing in revulsion and hanging my head in shame.
I was afraid of not knowing what was the proper thing to do at the moment. I didn’t know the proper etiquette. Somebody should write a book about it.
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