Dear Alice,
 
are you still running? Running away? Running late?
I’m supposed to tell you to stop running. But Alice, my dearest Alice, I knew a girl like you once. Falling down rabbit holes that go straight into the darkness. Swimming in her own tears. Crushing tea parties. And the queen wanted her head too.
  
It was like moving in circles. She “ran very fast for a long time”, but still ended up at the same place. The trees were red and the sky violet. The cheshire cat laughed at her and the rose bushes were bleeding. Maybe she was just upside-down. Too big, too small, never enough. And yes, “we are all mad here”, and nothing’s quite real, but she was still missing the key to the door.
 
Alice, are you crying? I’m only supposed to offer you some tea and ask if you are taking your pills…
 
But Alice can’t you see? You are enough. You are the key to the door. Your own door. Go on. Run. Don’t let them stop you. I won’t tell a soul. Go. For her. For me. For all the lost ones.