As I ran, my heart pounding, thunder cracked overhead and I looked back to see if he was close behind. But no. There was nothing. Only the vast expense of the green meadow shadowed by the great graying sky. Unless he was somehow cloaked, not visible to the naked eye. I wouldn't put it past him to pull something like that. So I ran, still, though my lungs burned and my legs wanted to give, and it seemed my heart would pound my straight out of my chest.
And when the building came into sight, I pushed into a sprint so full of the strength in my body it seemed I could fly.
you can message me with anything: questions, review requests, rants are you a green room knight yet? have you read this week's Squills?
Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light. — Brené Brown
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