I don't have a lot of childhood memories, but one I've been able to distinctly remember in my mind was one of my attempts to "run away" from home.
It was THE lamest attempt.
...That got bolded and italicized ladies and gentlemen.
I was in my parents home and built up a fort within my room, surrounding me where things I was going to take along. Yes, you read that right, I was running away from home to a fort inside my home.
No, I was not playing house or had a wild imagination.
I distinctively have an emotion attached to that memory associated with being upset.
And when I screamed at my parents I was running away, they said, "Sure, go ahead. See if you can survive out there by yourself." That shut me up pretty quickly.
The memory which resonates the most with this are the ones I've had with T. Although writing is my forte, I haven't been able to put my emotions clearly into words over him.
Reasons might be because I've been to prideful to admit the extent of my pain and two, I'm embarrassed by my actions. I'm afraid of becoming that Lonnie again. I've worked too hard to not be like her again. I've finally showed everyone, yes, I can survive out here by myself.
But where it has gotten me? I'm looking back and I don't see anyone on the same path.
I've been having the urge to run away again all year, placed in situations and forced to see a reflection of myself and critique where I have been going these past few years.
I'm scared, but I'm also done running away. I'm turning around to face everything head on.
