Running

Why are you running?  Are you running from something?  Or are you running to something?

That's not you.  You always know what you're doing.  You always know better than me.

I'm the one that runs.  I run because I don't know what else to do.  If I keep running, I don't have to stop, I don't have to think about it, and I don't have to face it.

Perhaps everything that I've done over the years was all wrong.

I knew to never really expect anything, even though inside I really did hope and wish.  All I wanted to do was show that I care.  Maybe the things I wrote were too much.  Maybe all the things I've done have taken a toll on you more than anything.

I don't want to be the shadow.  I don't want you to feel stuck.  I don't want you to feel trapped.

So if it's me, then I surrender.

If there's something I can do to free you from the shadow so that you can move forward (or backward) to wherever it is you would like to go, then that's what I'll do.

I've always hated to see you go.  I've always hated counting down the minutes to when I have to leave.  It kills me inside, every time.  The thought of losing you, forever, is too much to bear.  But all of that I can still live with, because what crushes me even more, and is most unbearable, is to see you in pain, especially when it's caused by me.

Should I be completely honest?  Perhaps I need to be if I want you to know why I'm doing this.  But being honest likely means I'll lose the tree hole (again).  But if I'm not completely honest, I risk another misunderstanding.  And, to begin with, this is already going against what you once taught me.

I'm sorry.  I never meant to hurt you.

Perhaps...it's time for the monkey to set out on his last mission.

Perhaps...this really will be the one last time.