Sometimes we need to free ourselves from the shackles of others, even though their anchor point sits rooted within our hearts and will no doubt send it shattering like glass upon a concrete floor.
But is it not better to take the time and slowly rebuild, than prolong the agony of their poison eating away at our core like cancer?
What if the one you need to flee from is tied to you by blood? Can you really be free from those that created you?
This was the daily torment that played out like a constant theatrical dilemma inside Sam’s head. Questions to which she had no answers but neither could she never ask them of anyone. Her shackles were anchored deep.