I know you’re not going to want to hear what I’ve got to say. You’ve been missing for such a long time now, you’ll probably think I’m out of touch or just too old to understand. So much has happened to you since we last saw each other you’re probably thinking that I couldn’t possibly get it.
You ran away to another country. Took flight, and ran. I get that. See, I’m not too old to understand. I know that you just had to get away, that something was pressing on you until you popped. Picking up the bags would have felt illicit, like a thrill, and getting on the bus would have had all the hallmarks of a stolen adventure. Heart beating hard, the unknown laid out before you. I get it. I know it.
