I run. That’s who I am. I’m a runner.
My first heart break, I ran. Became a flight attendant and left my home.
Second heartbreak I fled mentally and physically. I never thought heartache could occur multiple times. I was too optimistic and too positive. My first I thought of as an experience to learn.
This second one tore me apart.
My final heartbreak I gave it all away. Every piece of materialism I owned I gave away and ran away once more.
Now I sit alone, with just my thoughts. The one thing I can never get rid off.
Alone on a bench contemplating how was I able to make such decisions and continue to live. Continue to place one foot forward each and everyday.
Must have been the ambition I once had. The will to do better and the drive to make life better and not allow the heartbreak to ruin me.
But, I was wrong. I allowed it to crush me and now I am fighting to get out. Mentally, emotionally and physically.
Each day I just go by the functions instead of trying to live again. Instead of trying to find that light everyone took for granted.
Like a lost puppy I try to find my way. All I know is that my mind continuously tells me to write. But, write about what? I consistently ask myself.
All I’ve every known was to write and read and it’s all I never ran away from.
My words, my writing.