The desire to run away always creeps up on rainy days. The weather and my heart must have made a deal that I do not know about. Running away would make perfect sense if I don’t end up running back every time. Truth is, I don’t have the guts to run away for good so I scramble for familiarity which I pretend to be bits of security, leftover from the past. Stale and forgotten, left behind. This makeshift comfort zone, is not most ideal but it’s been the same since I can remember so it must be enough.
It has to be.