My name is Sally Lane Brookman. If you met me on the street, you’d probably wonder if you knew me from somewhere else, from another city or another time in your life. I look like every woman and yet no woman. I always was and probably always will be the girl next door according to my dear husband William. You know the kind of person who never quite fits in wherever she goes? Who wears some invisible freak flag that everyone can sense without exactly seeing? That’s me. I’m 40 years old, and I still don’t really know what I’m doing or who I am, and even after getting hit by a bus, I can’t seem to stop running. But the problem is I’m realizing that I’m running from more than my past. I’m not just escaping the horrors of my childhood. I’m running from myself. I’m running from growing up. I’m running from all the responsibilities of being a mom. Maybe, maybe I’m even running from God. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I can’t stop running. All I know is that I gotta stop running, or else the family I love so much is going to unravel. No one can run forever.