Sometimes…I just want to runaway.

Get lost in some city, because I’d much rather be lost in reality than in my mind.

I plan it out. I’d take nothing but my favorite books, my IPod and headphones, savings, and food to the bus station. And then I’d ride and ride and ride until I reach some distant place. After that, I’d change my name to Anne (I’ve always wanted to be named that.) and live alone.

There I could start again. Write a whole new book and discard of my old, ugly, dis-likable one.

But…as soon as I step out on the threshold, I stop myself. I find I can’t leave. I won’t leave.

There is something that ties me down.



6 thoughts on “Runaway”

  1. Do you mean metaphorically or literally? Because I’ve found that the best way to do something is to just do it.
    If you really want to go, go. What are you waiting for? Are there any ends you’ve left untied? Anything or anyone that won’t be there by the time you get back? Any responsibilities you have to see through?
    What exactly is stopping you?

    Liked by 1 person

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