RUN

I love magnet poetry.

I love those little letters and words that seem so random, yet tie together so perfectly. I got a page free somewhere, and found an entire box for a quarter at a garage sale, so the front of my fridge is covered in words. I play with them, the kids play with them, and apparently, Little Sister's Polly pockets use them as skates. They tend to wander when no one is looking, and little words end up all over the house.

Tonight, I've just had it. Another argument with Big Sister, and the way she treats me and Little Sister, and how the Hubster does nothing about it. I lost it, big time. Went on a screaming rampage. Told both of them that I was going to take Little Sister and leave because she doesn't deserve to be treated the way Big Sister treats her...how she's going to wind up hating her because all she ever does is yell at her. I've just had it. I'm done with half assed "I'm sorry's" that don't mean anything. I'm done with the Hubster standing by and watching it happen. I'm just done.

I've started picking things up when I'm mad...It's a habit I picked up from the Hubster, I think. Something psychological about controlling the physical chaos when I'm on an emotional roller coaster. I folded a basket of laundry. I cleaned one of the bathrooms. I organized the shoes in the rack by the front door.

RUN.

I saw it through my tears as I picked up, strangely enough, one of my running shoes. The little rectangular word, free from it's magnetic prison of the fridge, lost in the carpet, staring up at me.

RUN.

Is it a sign? That I'm really done? That it's time to just give up trying to fix things, cut my losses and go?

RUN.

How odd that I found that particular word at that moment in time. Does it mean something? Do I listen?