"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” ― Kahlil Gibran
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(Mikayla)
Running felt good. The wind in my face, hair flying in the air, legs pounding on the wet ground, heart thundering in the chest. It was liberating and I felt free. For a few minutes, I felt like I could actually run away from my feelings for August, like I could somehow escape them if I ran fast and far enough. And I feared that if I stopped, this feeling inside me would drown me, suffocate me, until I would stop being, stop breathing.
Why was it so hard?
I had always assumed love would be easy, serene, but my feelings for August were anything but. It was like the wild sea of Azrur, filled with tempests that never stopped. Loving him was demanding, arduous, but I didn't k
