like some medieval epithet
like the boy who is on the plane to europe, running from something, though i don’t know what. my friends keep referring to him as “the boy that ran away”, like some medieval epithet from beowulf. seems like he’s been running from something ever since we met. or perhaps he simply refuses to admit to himself that he’s following something or someone there.maybe he’s too scared to figure out what or who that is.
I have once again left behind the people and places I love. In this way I will always advance, leaving what I know in search of something intangible. Something I cannot even name. I do not know for what I am looking, and the uprooting of my soul further scars my heart every time.
I am scared.
But I am ready for what lies ahead. There is something that lies in my heart, deep down, pushing me forward. There is something telling me still this is what I must do. Perhaps it is what I must do forever, I do not know. I do not know if it is right. I don’t know if I will ever get where I am going. But I will try.
Now I have broken free, but not escaped. I thought I would be making a clean getaway, severing the ties, and never returning. I find myself separated now by little more than words. It is perhaps a disappointing beginning, but I must remember from whence I have come and to where I am heading.
Leaving this time proved to be more difficult than I had planned. I am now (perhaps too late) finding that I am leaving behind more than I had bargained for. Love is life, and sometimes that is a hard truth to bear. For even unwillingly, the heart finds its own way.
I remember a youth not much more than one year ago, who cried out to Fortuna, “Let come what may!”
So now I must remember those words, perhaps once forgotten, and embrace them once again. Indeed, I need not become upset at any folly, for it is itself part of the reward. It is in accidents and coincidences that I will begin to find new questions.
O, Fortuna!
I pray to thee,
Let come what may.
