The physical ones live in my shoe drawer at school, they come out periodically take me for a run or a brisk walk whatever I need to clear my head. I love those sneakers, no one has a pair like them they are unique like me and the perfect fit like a neck and a head. Speaking of my head, lets talk about my other sneakers I own, the ones I keep in a closet somewhere within my mind between fight or flight, and love or war. They are worn, so worn from running all over creation keeping me mentally sane, always ready to protect me from my inner most happenings.
These sneakers were purchased in fifth grade, slick white leather and good arches with a deep soul just what I needed at the time. See my parents were getting divorced, dad left and my mom was out of it or off her rocker most of the time. I learned to run then, in my room music on, I dashed to a place of sweet serendipity, a place no one would hurt me. Those days were almost hard, since then I have had harder but at least I learned young right.
This past week I accidentally purposefully grabbed those sneakers on my way out of my relationship. I threw open the closet where they are paired and began to lace them up. TSwift sat there and watched me in concern, she knows me well enough to know what I was doing. By the time I had them laced I was calmed, just the feeling of them on my feet made me feel better. I left them on but chose to stay, second chances right?
The next day I began feeling the anxiety build again, but with my sneakers already on I just didn't have a choice. One hand on the door knob, we fought. The room got fuzzy, I know A was there and I still didn't feel relief as things became heated my feet began to tingle I knew it then it was time, and with TSwift ready to break I heard the echos of myself saying "it's over, we're done" I remember the chill as I turned my back, and the look on A's face when our eyes' met.
Instantly my tattered and torn sneakers were put right back in the closet right where they belong. That's when the panic set in, that's when A asked me what I was doing. It was a total of maybe 2 minutes after removing my sneakers that I realized what I had done, followed by 30 seconds of convincing TSwift to come back and another 5 for her to come back to my room and me to just grab her face and beg for forgiveness. As the night came to a lull things calmed fairly quickly, and then coincidentally I put my real sneakers on and danced my fears away with the comfort of my best friend and the knowledge that TSwift just hurdled my first fault and we survived.