The Chase

I miss the chase. I miss chasing and being chased. Looking at one old photo in particular reminds me of the several times in the beginning he said, "I'm going to chase you." I thought, "Psh, okay. You've already got me anyway." Maybe I shouldn't have adopted and demonstrated that attitude so quickly. Perhaps I should have just let the chase and the subsequent excitement persist. But what difference would that have made except maybe slightly prolong the duration of the whatever-it-was?

I can't expect to be chased--though chaste, I can expect to be (bad joke, sorry). I also can't chase just to chase, because that would leave me breathless. Additionally, though I know it's the 21st century and I do have slightly feminist views, I often feel immodest in my pursuits. Initially, the excitement and uncertainty will entice me, but eventually, it is the same uncertainty that pulls me back. Okay, admittedly, the former uncertainty is one of whether and how to go about the pursuit. The latter uncertainty is one of whether the chase will be futile. This is just regarding people.

The chase regarding goals is even worse. I can't even expect to be chased back! It's an unending run, a never-ending pursuit, one goal after another. It gets exhausting and sometimes even frustrating, but in not pursuing or chasing anything, I would be seen as ambition-less, useless, or hopeless, which--excuse my pride--is worse than failure. But maybe I shouldn't have to excuse my pride, because failure at least means I tried. In this case, the chase is worth the effort.

In the other case, I don't know, but I sure miss and enjoy it.

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