When I was a little kid, I ran away once for about 5 or 6 hours. I hung out in the woods till I got bored and hungry and finally went home. And then my mother stopped just shy of killing me. That cured me of running away from home.
But now here I am all these years later and I'm thinking about it again. I think about running away every single day. The kind of running away where you pack the car up with whatever it will hold, washing the dishes, locking up the house and never coming back. Even worse, my child is totally down with it. I believe she could be ready to go in about 2 to 3 hours' time. I don't think I'd even need that long.
And when I think about doing it, that little person inside of me that has an impulse disorder gets stirred up. "do it", it whispers. When I leave work and cross the bridge over I-85, something stirs in me. Instead of going straight, all I would have to do is make a left........
The only thing is, wherever you go, there you are.