I don’t know why i’m running. I don’t know if it’s because my phone is at 38%, or if its because I can’t untangle my headphones.

I’m not sure if it’s because the teacher keeps on talking, or if its because all the ice in my water bottle has melted. Maybe it’s because I tried to look my best today- or maybe it’s because I think my best isn’t… the best.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s none of these things. Because anxiety doesn’t know convinence- it doesn’t always come with an explanation. It doesn’t know that this is a bad time for me.

I don’t know why I’m running.

I only know that I have to.

Maybe it’s because I saw hair that reminded me of yours, because the teacher is being too loud, or because I’ve sat in the same chair for 90 minutes.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t been listening, or maybe it’s because I’ve listened too much.

I run in a panic to the parking lot, to my new found red freedom. I feel the key unlock my car at the same time I feel a hot tear roll down my cheek.

I don’t know if the tear is because I’ve made it out, or if its because at least 132 people saw me between my classroom and my car.

or maybe it’s because I know I can’t afford to miss another class period. But don’t you see? I can’t afford to sit and deteriorate slowly in a room full of busy people.

I feel my chest collapsing inwards- my lungs catching on fire. I feel the sting of heat reach my sticky face. I feel my words bubbling up- with no one but my steering wheel to tell them to. So I sit. I sit silently in my car with swollen eyes.

I want to go home- but I can’t fit my key into the ignition- so I sit.

Maybe because I’m out of gas, because my hair is a mess, or because my bedroom is even messier.

Maybe it’s because I see your car parked 5 down from mine, because I didn’t get the pull through spot, or because I want to be okay-but I’m not- so i sit- and I stay- and I wait

because, because, because


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