Who decides to walk his dog at 6am.
To the man who then decides to skulk over to the track, where I run alone in the sleepy dullness of a rising dawn.
To the man who makes the choice to watch me as I run past, and walk right around the edge of the track as I gradually move to the center.
To the man who loiters around my pile of water bottle, jacket, gloves and keys.
To the man who has his hood up as he circles the track with his dog.
To the man who doesn’t smile, to the man who circles, to the man with the hood and hidden face. To the man who makes my palms sweat, my heart race. To the man who makes me eyes dart, frantically looking for escape routes, who makes me formulate plans. To the man who makes me hold my pepper spray tight in a shaking hand.
I keep on running, running too fast, running in flight, ready to run away.
To the man who finally walks away with his dog, as another person enters the field.
To the man who was probably innocent of all the crimes I imagined him of.
A letter to the man….. Please think about your actions so I can feel safe.
To the man, I say “sorry it has to be this way.”
Love “a mother of boys.”