Everything you run from will still be there when you get back.
Maybe part of me knew,
Maybe I just like to push the buttons,
Shake every snow globe
Take every opportunity.
Maybe I'm just selfish.
Don't take my optimism for naïveté, please:
I may not know how deep this rabbit hole goes,
But I've dug enough to know what the bottom looks like.
And I keep choosing happiness, anyway.
I love fiercely.
I live a strange and imperfect life.
I make poor decisions.
And I go all the way through.
So come with me.
You're the last thing I want to run from.
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