Walking

I sat outside today in a jacket far too light for the weather and thought about walking. I thought about leaving. I thought about consequences.

What was to stop me from getting up, packing a small bag, and walking away from my home? My family was out, my pets were fed, and I could only think of one reason why I shouldn’t leave to find some small, secluded, far away town and start a new life there under a false name. It wasn’t the law, since, technically, disappearing is not illegal, and I have no debts to pay or job to report to. It was not even my family, who would undoubtedly be scared and sad and hurt at my sudden absence in their lives. Was it that I was satisfied with my current life? Not at all! I am not unsatisfied with it, but there is nothing I have now that I wouldn’t forget and move on from.

It was fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of learning that there was never actually the choice to leave in the first place. What would I do if I wandered away to start anew, only to find myself pulled back by friends and family thinking they were helping me? I think my view on my current life would be shattered. I would no longer wake in the morning and make choices, sometimes stupid and sometimes not. I would no longer ask, “what do you want for dinner?” or “which shirt should I wear today?” No, I think I would grow rather depressed knowing that I did not, in fact, have any choice at all. It was the fear of this that held me back, reader. It was not love, or happiness, or respect for the law. It was fear.

So I sat outside in a jacket far too light for the weather and thought about walking.

~Harmony