Sometimes he chooses to falter.
To stumble. To stop.
He ignores the initial trip and let’s himself be in the moment of struggling.
Mostly he doesn’t like to struggle; it shows weakness, imperfection.
But sometimes he lets himself fall.
Just a little. Just to feel a little unstable, a little less safe.
Any time he spends rushing through life is carefree yes, but also careless.
He feels that if he were to slow down then life would rush off without him.
So he will continue to run heart first, head later.
Instead of slowing down he chooses to falter, just for a moment, to catch his breath and look around, a smile caught on his lips, before he picks himself up and runs on.