Getting Run Over

Yesterday, I had a very interesting encounter with a motorbike, a man, and a woman.

I got run over.

Yeah, it’s so stupid of me to run across the street when the light just turned green. And it was so stupid of them to go to the other lane when they were supposed to be in the right one which was only a few inches away. They suck and I suck. We all suck.

But me getting run over isn’t the really the issue here. When I told my boyfriend that I got run over, he said I seemed happy about it. And weirdly so, I think I felt happy to have gotten run over. And when I got run over, I remember that I felt more embarrassed than scared of dying of whatever. And when I saw my cuts and bruises I was more scared of my parents finding out that I went over to my boyfriend’s house than them finding out that I got run over.

I have some serious issues here that need to be attended to. Because I think that anyone who gets run over would be more scared of the possibility of dying than people remembering his/her face.

This is really wrong. I am really wrong.

I think I’m feeling a bit of post-traumatic stress. And I cannot tell anyone without my parents finding out. I’ve been shaking since yesterday and I want this to stop. I hate my tolerance for stress. I hate that I have to deal with this. But I have to. I really have to.

*edit* this boyfriend is already an ex. but I still feel that it was weird that I reacted that way.


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