What’s your escape? Everybody perceives things differently, so everyone has a different definition.

For me,

Escape is a green expanse littered with wildflowers. My ears are filled with the sound of my yellow rain boots trudging through fresh dry grass. I can see the sun rising in the distance, and it paints the sky beautifully radiant shades of pink and orange.

Escape is the roses I got from my stepsister long ago with their faded mild, earthy fragrance, hanging on my wall, dried so I could preserve the memory forever. She has changed – now she might come into my room and scoff at such sentiments – but I’m forever grateful for her part in my childhood.

Escape is looking through all my old and unfinished journals and laughing at what was, thinking about what is, wondering what will be. The warm yellow pages are filled with bits and pieces of what made me who I am today – a fruit sticker from the peaches my mum bought, receipts from the spontaneous after-school outings I went on with my best friends, the quotes I used to resonate with, the songs that were once in my playlists.

Escape is hanging out with my friends, gossiping or venting or going out or just soaking in each other’s presence as I hold back the urge to burst into tears and tell them all that they’ll never know how much I appreciate them.

Escape is a long car ride through heavy rain as I watch raindrops race each other down the car window or fall onto the sunroof until the car sickness fades.

Escape is finally getting into bed with the stuffed rabbit I got for my 7th birthday. I tuck the sheets under my feet and everything cuts to a warm shade of grey.

Escape is thinking about that person and wondering if they’re thinking about me too.

Escape is loving and being loved,

But that’s just me. Think about it —

What’s your escape?