I want to run.
Run, as fast as I can, run and run until I see nothing familiar, until I know nothing about my surroundings besides how refreshingly new they are. I want to escape, never looking back: no anxious glances over my shoulder, no lingering doubts. I want to run.
I want to run, fast enough to feel the wind in my face, to breathe in its sweet coolness, and smile. I want to run, to feel my heart beat freely in my chest, and to laugh out loud – ridiculous childish laughter, uncontrollable, but sweet as the opening of the bluebells all around me. I want to stand, somewhere far away from this place, and scream, not in fear or anger or hopelessness, but in freedom: a call, for liberation, excited for the years that lie ahead of me, fresh and unexplored.
How free I could be, if I could just take off. I would speed off, like a cheetah, disappearing deep into the forest, obscured by the trees, by the leaves – by anything that keeps me hidden, and safe. I would fly like an eagle, magetstic and proud, away from the people and places that teather me so, until I could look down and see something bigger, something new and exciting and wonderful. Hidden amongst the trees, or high above this place, I’d look around – believe me, I’d take everything in, because who knows what the future holds. But I would never look back.
Whilst you hold me here, I am trapped. You and I know that – there’s no point in lying to one another any more. In the end, one of us will break: either I’ll break free of these restraints, and launch, like a firework into the nightsky, sparkling with colour and light as I glide away, leaving nothing but a dissipating trail of glittering stars in my path. Or, I will break. I will break: the restraints will tighten, the cage-bars will thicken, and the twinkling lights somewhere way off in the distance will become just that little bit dimmer. But do you know what won’t die? A spark. A spark somewhere deep inside of me, which with every push-back becomes brighter and brighter, until it takes over my entire body. Then, I am a flame, and there is nothing and no one who can stand in my path.
Never give up hope. Sometimes on a daily basis, the world can seem like a hopeless sphere of torment, injustice and bleak futures. But there is something more: there is always something more, whether you know it yet or not. That spark inside of you? It never dies; it flickers — sure it does — but it never dies completely, and with every push-back, and with every failure, it burns brighter and stronger, convinced more than ever that there is something else out there, and that you are going to find it, someday, somehow.
Trust that spark — it knows its shit. Don’t be afraid to run: it’s not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. By running, you know that you’re not in the right place for you, and you have found the strength to leave. Sometimes, a fresh start is the best option. I can’t wait for mine.