A crocodile you swim to because you think it's an upturned boat. If you're not, you end up tripping well before the ribbon, hunched over and gasping for air, getting a dozen stitches for two sliced-open knees and feeling sick of running. If you're lucky, you get to the finish line and have no idea what comes next. But with all your thoughts focused on the finish line, very little consideration goes into what life looks like once you actually pass it. Your fast-twitching muscles are all ready to snap, and you're ready to win. The Chase always looks so great at the starting line. The only question is: What exhilarating ride will The Chase lead me on next, and to what miserable end? There were others before, during and after Wendy. Instead, we've spent the majority of our lives actively avoiding the gravitational pull of each other's orbits. The Chase is what has kept us going, what has kept us connected, a shared oxygen tube strung between us. We've never actually gotten together for any substantial amount of time.

And every time I grow tired, she scampers back. It's this whole idea of The Chase and all the excitement it entails.Įvery time Wendy wanders away, I come scurrying around. Each of these addictions took me awhile to shake, but I could cut 'em when I wanted to. I've tried God and hope and booze and goddamn cough medicine. I've tried cigarettes, I've tried dope and I've tried heroin. She's done this every year or two since we were 15. She and her old boyfriend were going to start things up again and he knew about me, so it probably wasn't ideal for me to be around all the time, sliding into her inbox whenever I wanted. Wendy had just told me that day that we couldn't talk for awhile. I had this girl on my mind, this girl who I'm about ready to admit I'm supposed to be with. I was at a bar drinking by myself the other day.

The thrill of the chase