Sometimes we run.

Sometimes because we're too scared to face what's in front of us.

Sometimes we run because we're not ready for what's in front of us.

Sometimes we run because we don't know what to do.

But sometimes we run because we've stayed too long. We run because we have to. And it doesn't mean we're weak. Or scared. Or stupid.

We run, to put things behind us.

I am not afraid of you.
I used to be.
But standing still, was how I lived in fear.

And in that time I studied you. And I learned from you. Saw what you really are.

And you weren't scary. You weren't some powerful being that needed to be feared. You had no power at all. Not unless I let you; and I did let you, for a long time.

But then it clicked.

You were nothing.

Nothing but foolish threats, pathetic narcissism, and a loud voice desperate to hear itself.

So I am not running, because I'm afraid to face you.

I'm running, because you're not worth facing.

You never have been.

And I'm done pretending, for the sake of your sugar glass pride, that you ever, ever, will be.

Your place is behind me.

And I'm running, to make sure you stay in it.