“Who are you running from? You can’t run all your life,” he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I don’t know who I’m running from.
All I know is, I can run pretty far.
I can run to the hills, to the sea, to salty kisses on a winter’s day, to a silent day spent under the cherry blossoms.
I can run deep into my imagination, where no time, tide, or being can affect me.
I can run and leap into a cool sea of thought, diving to the depths, again and again, not having to consider rules or limitations.
I can run to the depths of my mind, but I can’t run from my shadow.
I can’t run from myself.