Riding to the sun
A friend of mine went through a breakup he couldn't come back from. So instead of sitting in it, he ran. Parties, strangers, his motorcycle across the whole world — anything fast enough to stay ahead of it. In the daylight, it worked. He looked free.
But every night, when it got dark, she came back. Every single time. It got so intense that people around him started calling it something else — a curse, witchcraft, like she'd put something on him he could never outrun.
Whether it was, I never knew. Some things you can't explain. This is his ride.