I never like a rush

I am a very crazy person and I like the way I live my life but it's strange to believe that there is another human being who could dwell with me in tandem.

Days when I forget my phone I act like an escape convict and just disappear and roam. Today my feet were my only carriage and there I found myself in Target on the outskirts of town - several miles from my home - talking to myself and feeling a forboding weakness in my legs. Too much with the walking and not enough with the feeding. That kind of weakness.

I know that feeling, though. Perhaps you do too. When your body needs to fail. When your muscles need to stop. But you can't.

I derive a morbid pleasure out of knowing my body will NOT stop until it is safe to do so. Nights walking home drunk have been like this. Nights in Brooklyn. Days in Central Park.

I derive a morbid pleasure from pushing myself until the Super Human resources kick in and eventually I find myself safely home.

Endurance - I've realized - is my biggest turn-on.

Longevity.

Longsuffering.

Forbearance.

Persistence.

Not to be confused with patience, or stamina.

I've never needed speed. Or immediacy. Always had hope that the "end" wasn't terminal. Enjoy the process instead of the destination. Could always get by in time.

So the things I bought in Target? You'd think I was worried about impressing my boyfriend. He obviously thinks I look fine (beautiful, even), but there's nothing like a bathingsuit and a dressing room mirror to make a girl feel like she should be melted down to her raw materials and reformed.

Board shorts help.

The best part is going to be in a week from today when I walk on the beach with my arm around my boyfriend. I'll probably forget that my body is as attractive as a hairless cat.