Too much happened too fast, like a plot twist in a book. But unlike the reader, I can't go back a few pages to reread and understand what happened.
I know even the darkest people can be touched by the light.
I don't think I can come out of this unscathed.
My old escapes are like secret passageways in and out of my brain.
The process of getting better is torturous, it's so much work.
Running made me feel like I could never be caught, maybe if I ran fast enough I'd be able to escape the fear of the past and the present.
I realised nobody could take that strength away from me, even if I wore an L and not an M.
Much like people, there are layers to coffee.
Are we just the sum total of all our experiences? Maybe...
That's saying something considering when I was five when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I said I wanted to be a patient like being one constituted an actual profession.