Runaway

You are alive. You spent your life navigating through alleyways of moments, sounds, light, touches. Driven by constellations of feelings towards some uncertain event. You know you are gonna end up somewhere, you just don’t know where yet. But you’re letting it happen. No one, nothing, is stopping you.

Until the day you decide to question it all. Why? When? How? Where? Who? With whom? And you stall everything. Nothing feels right. You stop navigating, you start searching. You want that uncertain event to become certain, yet deep down you know that will not happen. You end up fighting all sorts of currents, fighting to the point it gets unbearable but you carry on doing so no matter what. Your limbs start falling apart, One by one. They’re then followed by the rest of your body: shoulders, arms, legs, hips, back, head, eyes. Everything hurts. Constantly. It hurts to the point you wish you were dead but nothing makes you feel more alive than that chronic nagging pain that would not leave you alone.

Even then. Even when you’re falling apart and you feel like you have no reason to keep it together. You could eventually just let everything go and maybe you’ll find new alleyways to navigate. The thought of losing control scares you, so you carry on fighting. Not because you want to fight but because you don’t want to lose. You’ve always been a sore loser and now that you are the only one in the competition you realize just how ridiculously stubborn and self-destructive that was.

You carry on not losing for a while. You carry on living with pain. You carry on telling yourself that it’s because you stopped drinking soda or because people suck. Until the day you realize none of it is true. And you breakdown. It all comes crashing in waves, engulfing you to the point you cannot breathe. You let it out. All of it, tears and muffled screams. And then…nothing. No relief, no nothing. You’re back to square 1 and everything hurts just as much as it did before. Maybe giving in was not the solution after all.

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