When running from a thing you loathe - too hard, too long - the balance shifts for you to follow your hate as you continue to run in your circle - eyes closed, fists clenched - so much so that it becomes your need.
The elements conspire against you.
The curse of your hate stays as a painful glimpse of it in the one you hold dearest and closest to your heart whenever you choose to open your eyes, only to shut them tight again.
