Trying to write a paper I really don't want to write About a dumb idea. Can't find the motivation And hoping to wake up With a finished paper on my screen. Now that would be nice. Guess I just have to start typing instead.
I am a runner, by nature. Never running towards, Just always running away. It's like my preemptive strike, My way of saving face, Before everything goes wrong Or just gets too boring. Because that's inevitably what happens If I don't get away. I've always been sure of it.
My friends like to say I'm brave For leaving everything behind And starting all over Every time I go somewhere new. I don't get too close to anyone, I don't find my rut, And I get to experience the world: Where's the bravery in that? They talk about courage and taking risks, But that's no risk.
The risk is sticking around To see the next chapter or two. It's taking a chance on the hope That what's good now Will still be good tomorrow. Now that's courage. Because running away Is easier than dealing with pain. And always running away, Well there's no bravery there.
In all the running I've done, I've left a lot behind. And looking back I mostly think That's been a good thing. But maybe now I've found An okay place in my life. And maybe I should stop and rest, At least for awhile. I'll probably still get antsy and scared, But it's worth it to stay.
So I'm putting away the runner in me And pushing out the urges to close up. It's scary and risky and exposes me To vulnerability and pain. But then that's true courage, isn't it? It's not a lack of fear and worry, But fear in the face of danger. It's knowing you're afraid of doing something, And doing it anyway, Because you know it has to be done.
Where will running get me anyway? I can only go so far Until I hit the end of the line Or run out of fumes. And when I look back I don't want to see what I missed. I want to see what I enjoyed, What I loved and learned and experienced. So I'm going to stop missing things And stay put.