Do you ever want to just run away? Leave all the people and all the old places. All those things that are so familiar that they hurt you in dull ways that barely even register anymore. The things people have said and done that you waved away as being “fine.” That was the first mistake. That was the opening of the door. It said, “Don’t worry, that doesn’t hurt much. I’ll be fine and deal with it. I know you don’t mean it to be hurtful.” But here’s the thing we’ve all buried: it does hurt. It hurts to not be wanted but then to be grudgingly invited along only to be kindly ignored (at that point you wish to be invisible anyway). These are the things that bring about that overwhelming feeling, that overbearing desire to just give up on it all. To leave it all behind in place for something better somewhere. Something that you have no guarantee will be any different. Will provide any peace or rest at all. This is the question spinning like a lazy fan in the heat of summer. It circles slowly, tauntingly. Like the fan that could possibly help, but there’s only one way of knowing. Jump. Go. Just try. They circulate slowly, looking promising for a time, but then receding back into the depths of the mind to circle even slower. Almost imperceptible in the hustle and bustle of life.