Somedays.

Some days I want to run. Do you know the feeling? I want to run. Escape. It's not that my life is horrible or even particularly difficult. In fact, it's quite the opposite comparatively. It's just some days I look at myself, my life, my responsibilities, my goals, my heartache, and I just don't feel up for it. I look at the dark clouds and the shedding trees as they are moved by the bitter winter-like winds and I think, I don't want you. As though my cold-hearted words will send them back where they came from, leaving summer with me forever.

I look at my husband, my children, my friends, and I think, Move away from me before I hurt you. I am not enough. I will drain you. You are too much for me. And I don't like these thoughts because they speak of cowardice and selfishness, and I am reminded of who I don't want to be, but can be so easily. I can only be so selfless, giving, and present. I am not limitless. There is a piece of me that will always long for a shack on a beach, with an endless supply of books, coffee, and no sound but the waves crashing and the breeze whispering soft nothings in my ear.

I am learning a new way of life. One that does not include me being the heroine. Learning to let go of images of the someone I am not. The someone I never was. The someone I never will be. Learning to accept life for what it is. Accept myself for who I am. As one under renovation.