You know how much I love running. You wonder why? Because you never let me walk. In your eyes, I’m never gonna be prepared enough to let loose of your protective arms that hold me so tight so I wont take a fall. The thing is, you’re living proof that you turn out perfectly fine with a bruise or two.
You’ve seen me walk, not without voicing your opinion loudly. You know perfectly well (it’s not for nothing that I’ve your blood inside me) that I like being aware of the finish line. I think you know that, but you also know that you won’t get to direct this movie, because I wont be just an actress. You gave me better chromosomes than that.
I know, also, how much you hate my running. Do you want me to run faster? You seem to. I cannot understand why won’t you trust me and just walk beside me, instead of watching me run further and further out of the cradle you carefully planned out for me. Or rather for a you-version of me.
You seem to like closing doors, but in the end it wont make much difference. You never wanted to give me a key, but you’ve made me strong enough to push them open. Everytime I run I get closer and closer to the end of it, but do you really want me to get a one-way ticket to wherever?
There are many things that get lost in the 40-year noise that lays between us. I am not part of this house, you cannot place me around wherever you think I look better. The more you move me around, the more I move out of your map.
You taught me well how to play my cards, but you’ve always been too afraid of rolling the dice. That’s all there is to life, blackjack and dice, and you’ve gotta play both. Of course I will lose sometimes, but who cares? I’d rather take some wrong turns than fall down a cliff because I was running so fast I didn’t see it.
“I never thought of running, my feet just led the way…”