Running Away

A few weeks back I was talking about my move with someone when they jokingly asked, "So what are you running away from?" Of course I laughed it off and assured them I wasn't running from anything.

I lied.

Here's my confession; I'm totally running away. From a lot of things.

Mainly I think I'm running away from all my failures. My numerous, inescapable, soul crushing, painfully obvious failures. All the would-haves and should-haves and didn't-dos. Because for all the successes I've had in my life, all I can still see are the things I screwed up.

College. Relationships. Marriage. Career paths. Friendships. One thing after another, the reminders of who I didn't become are enmeshed in this area. In no way am I saying I would change anything that's happened; I wouldn't be who I am or where I am today without them. I'm saying I want to be free of the weight the memories hold on me.

By moving away, really moving away, I feel like I'll be able to breathe. Maybe figure out who the hell I am and what my purpose here just might be.

It's a clean slate. Completely new people who know nothing about me or my past. New places to discover and make memories. I don't have to worry about running into my ex-husband and his girlfriend at the grocery store. I don't have to see the look of pity and disappointment on the faces of people who knew me growing up when they find out I didn't go on to become the Next Great Music Educator or whatever it was I was supposed to do according to everyone else. I will have a 3500+ mile buffer between myself and the beautiful families my friends are building, which just stokes the ache in my heart that in all reality the same is probably not in my cards. It's selfish, but I will be able to love and see them through the impersonality of Facebook and email. If I don't hold their adorable babies, it doesn't hurt me quite so much. I don't have to be the odd man out in all my family and friend outings, the only one without a partner and playing 3rd or 5th or 7th wheel, all the while putting up the front that I'm tooootally ok where I'm at and being perpetually single. Not driving past my dad's old neighborhood, or his old shop, or any of the 8 million places that can bring me to tears in 4 seconds flat just by being in their vicinity.

I'll happily admit that I'm running away from my horrendous dating and relationship life here. Now I'm not the world's most beautiful woman nor am I so scintillatingly clever that I should expect the gents to fall at my feet. For being an intelligent, somewhat humorous, decent enough looking woman who is not completely bat-shit crazy I have had the most awful experiences. My heart has been broken, smashed, stomped, and pierced way too many times. Have I made bad decisions? More than I can count. Do I have regrets? Of course. I'd like to think I'm better than I have been treated by men. That gets harder the more I get hurt. In Tortola, it's a completely new beginning.

I don't want to reinvent myself. Honestly I do like who I am, for the most part. But I'd be a giant liar if I said that part of my motive for this move wasn't to escape, to run like hell, from part of myself and my past.