Wanderless Musings

August 18, 2012
Don't you ever feel like packing up your things and just going away? I know I do. I just want to take a bag and stuff it, take some money and food and be on my way. I want to go on an adventure across the world, learn a new language and make a whole new identity for myself. Yes, I know I am clearly ignoring the consequences of doing any of these things, but still, humor me. Imagine if we could just start anew whenever we wanted, go wherever we wanted, just because we could. Now imagine that you were given the chance to do that, would you take it?

As much as I desire to grow wings and fly away, I would much rather stay with my feet on the ground. I would rather stay around the familiar because in truth, I am scared of what an unknown place holds for me. I am perfectly aware that I just contradicted what I had said previously, about wanting to go to an unknown place with only a few clothes and some change in my pocket, but in truth, I know I am incapable of it. Well, incapable is not the right word, more like I just won't. I wouldn't just get up and leave everything I know behind, though at times I wish to. At night, in the silence of my room, I wonder, if I just left, what would happen? Who would I encounter? Who would miss me and who would shrug it off? What would happen in the course of time it took me to wander aimlessly through the country?

These are questions I wish to amuse and no matter how many scenarios I make in my head, I never know the actual answer. And I hate not knowing those answers. I want to know that my family would be alright without me, that I would be safe and that they would be even more safe than I would be. I want to be certain that my mother would not die of heartache if her child just leaves without another word. I need to know that if I leave the safety of my home, that I would not end up in a gutter, just another faceless and nameless girl in the land of nowhere. But as of now, I can't be too sure. That's one of the may things keeping me from stretching my legs and extending them beyond the reach of my safe zone. But those named are the main reasons that I stay.

Yes, I do still wish that I could go away. That in a far away place I would be able to breathe easier, reevaluate a life I barely started and come to terms with myself and all the things I've done and want to do. I just want to get away from it all: the yelling, the roaring engine of cars in the middle of the night, of the voices that haunt me in my mind, of everything and everyone I know. Maybe it's not the best reason to leave, but it is still my reason. It is the reason I wish to escape and maybe one day I will have the guts to do so. Maybe one day I will wake up and just leave. Maybe one day, when I'm sick of the bullshit and loneliness, I would go away, never to be seen or heard from again, just to return to my biggest fear. I fear that on my return, no one would have missed me, no one would remember me or even worse, everyone would hate me for what I did: Leaving behind my family and friends for something as selfish as a whim, just because I could.

I really wish I could, but I am going to stay here, planted to the forsaken city that I reside in.





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