When I was 16 I started planning to escape. I'd always leave 3 or 4 days worth of clothes stacked together, I had a plan for what I would grab. My best friend encouraged me. He told me that he'd take me in. He packed up and left home when I was 17, his truck and whatever he could fit in it. He crossed 6 states and then ended up finding a town he loved, got a job and a place all within a week. He told me I could come stay with I'm til I got on me feet. Then he enlisted and sold me a new dream. He said he'd get stationed in Italy and I could come with him. He told me I would get an apartment and a job and I just belonged somewhere better than where I was. I use to think he wanted better for me, but I realize that he just wanted me to be someone else. He always wanted me to be more like him, he never accepted me for who I was.
I still have dreams of vanishing from time to time. Rarely now. I like my life. I love my man, my kid, my friends, my job.... I just get a touch of wanderlust.
Oh to see the wonderous things of the world. The northern lights, the ancient temples, cliffs and reefs and whales, rolling fields of heather, giants causeway, santorini, Bali, marianas trench, Machu Picchu, the Coluseum, the catacombs of Paris, Switzerland, Iceland. Give me the world.
