Running Doesn’t Always Help

I just read a post by one of my fave bloggers, Simone Grant, titled ‘I Vant To Be Alone’.  You must read it and I’ll give you my version of it too. 

Disclaimer – this is a kinda heavy personal post.  You’ve been warned.  Don’t judge me.

Ever tried to ‘run away’ after a break-up ? You know – put some distance between you and the ex ? For the sake of your own sanity ? To give yourself some sort of closure ?

I have for the better part of my dating life been very good at dealing with relationships and break-ups.  It’s a part of life and break-ups happen.  Some hurt more than others.  But none ever gave me reason to want to pack my bags and just RUN.

I didn’t just happen to move to India a few years ago.  It chokes me to say it – but I ran like a scared child into the comforting arms of my mom – not that I ever admitted to her ‘why’.  All because he made me want to run away; because I couldn’t take the every day pain of being in my favourite city without somehow conjuring up an image of ‘us’ and the upheaval caused when I bumped into him.  (I think he did it on purpose – be wherever I was).

He broke up with me.  Nat was my saviour – we flew off to Milan for a few days.  He called and she would answer and tell him never to call me again.  We returned and I found myself heading to NY where I stayed back for almost 5 weeks.  He called me one afternoon whilst I was in Bryant Park and I don’t recall the conversation I had with him but I remember bawling my eyes out in the bathroom there.

I came back to London and the first weekend out bumped into him and the sharp pang of pain that went through my being was enough to make me want to be sick.  I’m a tough cookie – I walked past him with so much arrogance it left him coming after me.  Dee was by my side the minute my hard shell crumbled. 

I met someone else who adored me, but I made plans to move – not my neighbourhood – but leave the country.  Chicken-shit I know.  But I knew it was for the best.  New life, new prospects, and I would get to be with my family.  After all I had already closed my company after a fall out with my business partner.  But deep down I knew part of the real reason – I just didn’t want to acknowledge it ‘cos it would hurt.  Now that’s really putting distance between two people huh ?

Did running away help me ? May be in some way it did.  It was a bit extreme.  Of course I had other reasons to move – it wasn’t just because of the break-up – but it was definitely was one of the reasons involved in the decision to move.  Not necessarily a wise one.  My girls understood that and stayed by my side – ready to help me make the most difficult decision I had to make. 

It’s been a great journey the past 3 odd years.  I’ve met a lot of people; the professional front has taken new heights; I’ve managed to do some major family bonding in my own way; and I’ve gotten to travel and explore places which I hadn’t had the chance to.  Did it put a permanent block to the heart ache I felt ? No – but it eased it considerably.

I’m very good at burying my emotions.  Ask anyone who knows me.  I buried them so deep without even realizing it.  I have gone on with my life and not thought about the past.  Yes, it creeps up on me, when I least expect it and when it does – I feel my heart caving in on me.  And lately – I’ve thought – this needs to be out of my system once and for all.

When I was in Jordan a few weeks ago, I sat staring out in to the vast mountain canyons and desert terrains and kept ‘churning out’ any last thought I had of that past that I have buried so deep.  A long time ago I had accepted that somehow I had managed to let someone get so close that they had the power to hurt me in ways I couldn’t even imagine. I shut it out because that’s what I do best.  Thinking about it made my eyes sting, and my heart swell and I kept at it until I couldn’t breathe anymore.  I found an inner calm somewhere.  Sabs was there to make sure I didn’t fall off the ledge. 

I came back to Bombay, and FB decided to remind me of this past with a friend suggestion; which quite literally suffocated me – I almost had a mini-anxiety attack  (damn didn’t my picturesque mountain self-healing help?)  So much so that for the first time I openly said something about it (via my FB status which caused an ex and an aunt to question if I was ok).  That was 3 weeks ago.  My days in Jordan cleared my minds’ eye and reading Simone’s post hit home the other night.  Perhaps running didn’t solve the problem on hand – but it led me on another path of adventures which I would have never experienced if I stayed where I was.

I didn’t ‘deal’ with it then; so I am dealing with it now.  I’ve been dealing with it in my own way – on & off – for months whenever it creeps up on me.  Now, I’ve finally dealt with it. And hence today’s post.  It’s out of my system.  Gone. Forever.  

If one can’t appreciate what they had then he / she never deserved it in the first place.  And you can’t beat yourself up just ‘cos he / she couldn’t see that. 

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