October 3, 2016
When you grow up as a child who never fully understood the concept of permanence, it’s difficult to hang your running shoes after the race. Running finds a home in your reflexes when everything starts to become overwhelming. Everyone else did it. Your mother left and your father escaped to another city. They taught you that it was perfectly normal to pack your bags and leave before things got bad.
But one day, the urge will come to a slow stop.
Somebody will teach you how to stay. I found him early. I was sixteen years old, arrogant with the belief that I was ready for an all-consuming, ground-shaking kind of love. But here I am now. Two years later, I find myself at a standstill.
I need a new pair of running shoes. Leaving hurts, but staying is harder.
