Swear Jar

Second Coin

I never told you about my condition. But surprisingly, you knew.

Although it wasn't a secret, it wasn't something you would just know, because I never liked showing that I can be weak. Because I always wanted adrenaline rushes, I wanted thrill, I wanted intensity... and still show that I can, and be so smug about it because I did. And that I am not restricted from doing anything that could trigger whatever it is. Because honestly, it rarely—or should I say, never does!!! Some situations might, but it's less likely from running away.

I was about to run...

I agreed to a dare to see who could run faster. I was raring to go and was so confident to show how fast I could run because that would be so cool. I knew that between my challenger and me, I could do it faster.

But I hadn't had the chance to prove it when you stopped me and held onto my elbow, saying...

"Bakit ka tatakbo, 'di ba may..." 

It caught me off guard.

I would be so ready to blurt out "and so???", if it had been another person who told me that. But it wasn't just anyone. It was you.

I was so ready to run, but you told me not to. I could be stubborn. But in that moment, I became stupid for thinking it was something romantic—that you were attentive to me.

You cared. And even though I didn't want to be seen as someone who gets easily hurt, it felt nice that you sounded protective. You were so concerned when you saw I was about to do something that could hurt me, and you stepped in.

I got so emptyheaded I listened to you.

I thought I was so agile and I could be up for anything even triggering my limits. When the truth is that, my coordination with myself suffers. Sorry, not really sporty.

I should have run then, not only to win that playful race but to also successfully distance myself from you. I'd rather have my heart beat rapidly from running than have you inconsistently excite it.

I wanted it extreme, but you didn't. You thought you were protecting me, but you made me feel sick instead.