On Escaping

I have spent the last fourteen of my almost nineteen years in the same tiny community, and the last twelve-and-a-half in the same house. It’s a really nice neighborhood – super safe, a ton of sweet old people, and nearly every household has at least one dog (I like dogs, okay?). But, believe it or not, after fourteen years, even the nicest of places can get old. Like, really old. Honestly, I've been here so long that I am starting to doubt the existence of this place. It’s just the same imaginary people walking their same imaginary dogs and following the same imaginary routine every day. Not only is it unnerving, it’s actually kind of frustrating. Like, if all of these people are here, happy with their imaginary lives, how can I ever hope to be anything greater than what’s here?

Remember last post, when I said that a part of why I write is so I can be someone else for a while? Well, the cool thing about writing is, not only can I be an entirely different person, I can be in a totally different place, too. It makes being stuck in this small town a little more bearable. The only downside is that I spend a probably unhealthy amount of time in my bed (yes, I am, in fact, in my bed right now) – but is that really a downside?

Sometimes, though, even writing isn't enough for me. Sometimes, I think about running, no looking back. Obviously, that’s an unrealistic thought. I know myself well enough to know I would never survive a new city by myself; I’m far too awkward and uncomfortable for that. So, naturally, my solution to being in this imaginary place with all these imaginary people is to move across the Atlantic Ocean to not only a new city and country, but to a whole new continent. In a little more than four months, I’ll be going to Europe and leaving this quaint little neighborhood behind for (hopefully) bigger and better things – if only for a year.

I’ll admit I’m terrified. I’m not generally the type to do anything like this. I’m usually the “back off, I’m comfortable” type. The imaginary type. But there’s something so appealing about breaking away from that and being a different person in real life instead of just in writing or in my own head. I mean, I’m definitely going to miss the comfort and my friends and even the imaginary people. But I can’t wait to experience the escape.