she couldn't keep running for eternity.

Words like "halfway" and "uncertain" always made her feel like there are piercing shots of discomfort rushing through her blood. The colour grey made her feel sick. The couple of hours before reaching her destination after a day-long roadtrip frustrated the hell out of her; she always defined herself as a keen lover of clear sharp ends, and the backstage of planning and juggling is totally not her place.

She never thought that she would be stuck in limbo; confusion and vagueness were someone else’s realm and not hers. But we always go through this, don’t we? Even the strongest of us, the ones who are made of steel. Don’t we all get sucked into some black hole?

When she realised that she was locked in the black hole they always talked about, she was overwhelmed. Scared. In a state of denial, but her heart was getting heavier each day, and her brain was in a constant state of sleeplessness. She always told her friends to keep running from whatever uncomfortable thoughts and feelings, but she tripped and all the things she was running from caught her in a moment of weakness. A flagrant, red alarm kept screaming all the time in her head but she was running and running… until she fell.

The days in which she was barely able to get out of her bed seemed like they were tailored into one dull cloudy day. “Running wasn’t brave,” she kept telling herself, “I should have faced my ghost.”

But how could we face the unknown? The random bruises on your soul? The unfathomable sudden feeling that the world is mercilessly pressing hard on your chest?

She hated indefinite things. Loathed them to the core. She was surprised that this heartbreak did hurt her a lot and she was still mourning her shattered feelings. She thought she was over this, she didn’t even feel a sting in her heart when all her high expectations hit the ground. She never thought that the disappointed complains of her mom still ached. She didn’t even love herself a bit more on the days she was torn apart, she just swallowed everything and moved on with no second thought.

And she didn’t know that the lingering aftertaste could turn into a poison.

That night, she hugged her pillow and promised herself that if she ever made it out of this heavy umbra, she wouldn’t ignore her deep hidden wounds once more. She wouldn’t wait for another volcano to erupt and burn her into ashes.

“I’m so sorry, my heart, I promise I’ll make you calm. I’m so sorry, my brain, I promise I’ll sort all the mess out.”