I want to disappear a lot these days.
Sometimes I wish I could run away and not look back.
Then I remember that I have wanted to be the kind of person who throws down deep roots. Maybe that is why I like gardening so very much.
But there is something seductive and hopeful about the possibility of getting away.
And yet, it’s not what I want or truly need.
If only I knew what I need.
If only I could have what I want.
Or if I could want only what I need, and nothing else.
I spent my entire life running away – to college, to the UK, to Russia – and I never developed any roots. Sometimes I really wish I had some, though.