stop

stop following me around in these circles. don't tell me about how it gets better. don't pretend that not having to jog makes it okay to not have two working legs.

it is spring time and i miss little things like being able to walk these streets. my bike. the run.

the doctors are concerned and there don't seem to be any easy answers. just drugs with miserable side effects (like menopause - it's a long story) and surgeries that include too many surgeons. too many hands.

and again and again i need you and again and again you are not there.

and i would rather sit alone with this. (sit because i can't stand. if it were up to me i would do everything in a run).

and it's not up to me. and i am not frida kahlo.

but i just may end up being the one who leaves before she knows what she has done.