The thought that obsessed my mind was an image of me running. Running away from my life in Saint Paul, running away from my debt, running away from the connections I have here; the main essence of it was running. The scenery was always changing: sometimes it was Uptown Minneapolis, sometimes the Mall of America, sometimes my neighborhood. Any road, I was running away from it all.

I think that was a pretty obvious thing: what I wanted was a solution to my problems, but my thoughts were obsessed with not solving them, but running away from them. Already I knew that that wouldn't work, because that doesn't solve the issues at all. Running away from life would just be running away from reality, from me, and from G_d; and those things are terribly impossible to run away from. I decided to just humor the thought for a little more when I had some time, whether it was during breaks or whenever I had some peace at home.

After a bit of time to actually take care of life, I thought of it again, and let it run a little deeper. Behind me, while I was running, there were plenty of people who were shouting for me to come back and return. And, yet, there weren't any that would try to chase me down and bring me back; all they could do is plead and yell for me. It made me sad—very sad—to think of it that way, but i wasn't really sure what any of them could do about my problems. Part of me felt unsurprised because, truly, there's not much that they could do other than provide the support I needed. Maybe that's why they were just standing without chasing me, and maybe, more truthfully, that's why I kept running despite their cries. Maybe it's a thought that the support that they were trying wasn't hitting on exactly what I needed. But I couldn't answer to myself what I needed right now. Or, perhaps, I was too afraid to give myself the honest answer.

So I took another break—a longer, days-long break—from the thoughts. When Casey, my roommate, left for Oregon, a wave of loneliness hit me again, like what happened when he left for the holidays the year before. I immediately wanted to go on Craigslist for a random hookup, not caring who it was, and not even craving it. It's like I wanted that intimacy, that personal-sensual feel of just being held and ‘loved’ like that, and, at that time, I was seriously humoring the idea. Was the small amount of ‘intimacy’ that a hookup could provide worth the empty, cold, and used feelings that would happen hours after? When I asked myself this question, I said ‘No,’ but the feelings still lingered on, and the question remained for a long while. I seriously wondered if, maybe, this time it will be worth it (and after checking the Personals section one night, the feelings steered towards ‘No’ stronger). But, even now, I still wonder.

Back to the meditations I went to examine my thoughts a little closer, a little deeper. This time, while running, someone finally did grasp my wrist and wouldn't let go. It was a man, and though I couldn't understand his words, I knew he wanted me to stay, and I knew I could trust him to hold me up. I cried—not during the meditation of the thought, but in the actual vision of it all—and fell into his arms. For once, that me in my thoughts felt like there was a man there to support him, a man that will listen and understand him, and a man that would let him feel intimacy and physical-sensuality without the cold and empty feelings that come from a random hookup. More importantly, he was a man that that me would be willing and open to revealing everything that pains the me in my thoughts. I don't understand why it was a man, but it needed to be one for that me. It needed to be someone strong, honest, intelligent, loving, compassionate, ambitious, non-manipulative, and all the things that I respect in others and that I try to strive for.

I don't think this is just loneliness, because if it was it would easily be fixed with good food, good drink, and good company. It's loneliness cranked up; it's loneliness with other emotions, and other needs that I don't think I'm getting. But I don't know what that need is, or, rather, as I've said, I don't want to answer to myself what I need. Or maybe it's I don't feel comfortable honestly admitting the need to myself or anyone. And yet I crave it.

I crave a strong, honest, intelligent, loving, compassionate, ambitious, and non-manipulative man in my life. I don't know how to answer the question of, ‘Why?’