I've taken to drawing wilted things. I don't know why.

Everytime I lay eyes on her, I feel the need to run.

Yet, everytime I think of running, of living happily somewhere far away, content in the life I build, I see her beside me. I asked her, in passing, if she would run away with me. My joking voice and the dark of night hiding the earnest in my eyes.

She laughed, and agreed.

I laughed too, but it didn't sound the same.

In my dreams I build flying ships that sail the skies, and she is there, the real reason I feel as though I'm soaring.

Yet every time I see her my heart seizes.

I don't know why.

But I'm just so, so afraid.