“ You know…as many times as you blame him for what happened I think what’s really holding you back is you blaming yourself. Maybe what you need to do to move on is not remove your anger towards him, but remove the anger you have towards yourself. ”
from my novel character named Green
The Get-Away Plan
Today I sat and wondered
If I were to leave tomorrow
Without telling anyone where I was going
Just take a leap into the darkness and disappear
Would you be too angry with me to even care I was gone?
Would you be too mad to try and find me?
Would you really miss me or would it be easy to say goodbye?
Sometimes I really am tempted to just pack two bags and leave. Get on a plane and go to Seattle. Walk around the city and then take a ferry to Bainbridge and pop in to say hello to my aunt and uncle. Or maybe visit Bismarck in Mexico. Submerse myself in his culture. And I wonder who would try to find me—besides my parents. I should write about it.
I told myself I wouldn’t turn on my phone.
It was almost 6:30 in the morning. Kyle would already be awake, waiting to see my droopy-eyed, tired face come out of my room to start another college day. He would come into my room at 6:35 and find me missing. Then he would go downstairs, thinking I had somehow ninja-crept past him and down the stairs. Once he didn’t see me anywhere in the house he would look in the garage, then the backyard, and then the front yard in time to see my car gone. Thinking I may’ve left in the middle of the night to go over to Bryan’s he would text me and ask if I planned on picking him up. After ten minutes he would call and it would go straight to voicemail. He would get worried after some more time had passed and knock on my mom’s closed bedroom door. He would call through the door and say that he needed to talk to her. Confused, she would open it and he would ask her if she knew where I was because my car was gone. She would grab her phone and call me just as he told her that when he tried it sent him to my voicemail. When I didn’t pick up she would send me a text message. When a few minutes had passed and I didn’t text her back, thinking of only one place I would be, she called Bryan. Bryan, being at work, would ignore the call. She would leave a voice message asking if I was with him, then follow up with a text message. She and Kyle would wait nervously. Bryan, seeing the text message, would go into the bathroom at his work and call my mom, explaining that I hadn’t come over last night, that he hadn’t heard from me since last night when I told him goodnight, and tell her he would try to get a hold of me. She would tell him that they tried my phone and I wasn’t answering but he would still call me anyway—and he would also be sent to voicemail: then would start the worried, angry, threatening, extremely concerned text messages every two minutes. My mom would call my dad while at the same time checking my facebook to see if I had uploaded any new statuses in the last 7 hours. By then it would be about 7:15. Both of my parents would start making phone calls to family members. Less than an hour later my geography class would start and I wouldn’t be there. Greg would text me and get no answer.
All of this would happen as I rode in a taxi to the Seattle ferry and slept for a few hours on a bench until the city began to come alive. I would walk around the city until about 4:00 in the afternoon and then I would make my way back to the ferry to catch the next ride over to Bainbridge Island. Once I arrived I would get another taxi and have them drop me off at Roberts Road where I would then walk to my aunt and uncle’s house. They would be shocked to see me, relieved, and frantically telling me to call my parents. I would apologize for not giving them a heads-up and inquire if I could stay the night and if not could they tell me what motel was closest that I could stay at. They would let me stay as long as I called my mom right away.
I would call my mom, using their house phone, and I would explain myself. I would first apologize to her, telling her that I understand what she must be feeling and how angry, upset, confused, and horrified she had been, and that the reason I didn’t tell anyone where I was going was because I knew everyone would tell me not to—that they would either tell me to wait, or to not go by myself, and they would ask why, why, why and I didn’t want to have to explain anything to anyone I just wanted to DO. I just wanted to BE. I would ask her for her forgiveness, tell her that I loved her, and say that I planned on coming home the next day. She would ask me why I felt I had to leave and I would tell her that I was feeling too stressed, restless, anxious, confused, and depressed, and instead of letting all of those feelings fester as they had been day to day to day in my regular every-day life, I chose to release myself from that regularity and spontaneously drop myself into something drastically different. It’s what I felt I needed to do to release the emotions I had inside since I had already tried talking to people and that hadn’t worked. After I talked to her I would call my dad and explain to him the same thing. Then I would call Bryan, and though he would probably be even more furious then my parents and tell me this was the last straw and he couldn’t take it anymore, I would already be at that peak of realizing I truly didn’t need him in my life and so I wouldn’t feel resentment or regret, just a twinge of sadness that he couldn’t accept what I had done—unless of course he did forgive me and tell me all he wanted was for me to come home and never leave like that again. I would comply to coming back home, but I would not make that promise to him.
I would not turn back on my phone until my feet had stepped back into San Diego, and when I got back I wouldn’t mention anything about my trip to Seattle. It would be between me and the people who actually cared enough to find me—or ask where I’d been.
You see, I already know what would happen, how it would all play out. I could see it in my head.
This is my great get-away plan.
I want someone who will blast music in their car, and sing, and who won’t care if I do the same thing :)