Not Running

This is me NOT running.  This is me scared as scared and NOT running.  Nervous energy.  Lalalala.  What time I am afraid I will....

Not run.  That's for sure.

Will not get in the car, head it west, crank the stereo, and pretend I can outdrive, outpass, outaccelerate the afraid.  Will not "accidentally" miss the appointment (oh SHOOT!  That was today?  Can we reschedule?  Like for the fifth of NEVER?).

Will not shake.  Will not cry.  Will not betray my image as the great cold queen in the red brick halls.  Will not keep turning worst-case scenarios over and over in my head because this doctor, unlike that other one, would never blind-side me with "So, your whole life is over today.  When would you like to schedule the surgery, honey?" lightly coated over in slick honey phrased as, "Do you have any children?... No?...I'm so sorry..."

And even if this is the beginning of that end, I will not fall into despair.  Okay.  That is a lie.  But I will try very hard not to go into it in despair, try very hard not to make monsters where there just might not be any, and I will try very hard to remember that for every single stupid hellish thing that has ever happened to me in my life, there has been a reason or at least some kind of thing I could take and use to help somebody else along the way.  If this is to come into my life now, even though it will seem like an ending, I have to remember that there has to be some purpose to it.

If I can hold on to that, maybe I can manage not to break into so many pieces that I cannot recover myself.  Maybe I can manage not to run so far that I cannot make it back.