How much strange are the times when you know what’s bugging you but you run and hide from your own self, your own thoughts because maybe you don’t have the courage to think about and face it. Because deep down you know the answers already and you don’t like them. You know they have the power to rip your heart out. They have the power to well up your eyes. And there comes a day when you manage to finally accept it. Because you’re tired of being sick. You finally let it rise up to the surface. Why is it that we run from ourselves? Because we’re cowards or we’re not selfish or we can’t wrong our loved ones? Is it okay to wrong our own selves in return? Caring about our happiness and peace of mind before anyone else’s makes us selfish? Maybe that’s needed sometimes, or most of the times.