The Runaways

My best-friend-turned-boyfriend for approximately two months. A guy I went on one date with. My father. What do these people have in common? They're my Runaways. The significant to semi-significant ones anyway.

This phenomenon, which I've come to call the case of The Runaways, is a pattern that seems to plague my life. For some reason I can't really figure out, I have a difficult time getting people to stick around. I've been trying to figure out what it is that I'm doing wrong. I've always been the kind of girl who can't hold on to a man for long, but this is a different kind of loss. The Runaways are a sudden, completely unexpected, rug-pulled-out-from-underneath-you variety of loss.

Each of the three aforementioned individuals, although they fall into the same category, have different reasons for being dubbed a Runaway. The first, the best-friend-turned-boyfriend (and now ex-boyfriend), wasn't the first boy to break my heart, but he was the first to disappear without the faintest explanation or indication, leaving me completely in the dark. He broke me past the point of recognition and didn't offer up a single answer until more than a year had passed. Years later, he's still prone to retreat at the sight of me. It's been long enough that I can let go, but he set the precedent for this phenomenon. He will always be my first real Runaway.

The second, the guy I went on one date with, was the most recent Runaway. He isn't noteworthy because of the role he played in my life, because he only played that role for approximately a week and a half. He is noteworthy because he reminded me of just how small being dropped cold turkey can make you feel. His leaving tore away at my self-confidence and essentially reminded me just how much I hate the dating world. To be perfectly honest, I really didn't have any remotely romantic feelings towards this guy, but I had started to get used to him being around. And just when I started to get comfortable he was gone without a trace. I was left without a clue, without an ounce of knowledge as to why he went from calling me every day to being virtually nonexistent in my world. He dropped me like a bad habit and I'll probably never know why.

And finally, there's my very own father. I don't ever talk about this. Ever. But, unfortunately, my father of all people has been my most noteworthy, and most heartbreaking Runaway. He left my family and myself behind to "find himself." Time and time again, I've extended myself to him and tried to be forgiving. Time and time again he has let me down. I haven't seen him for longer than a passing glance in over two years. He abandoned his family for reasons I'll never be able to comprehend, and he has yet to turn back and try to fix the things he has broken. I may be able to find it within me to genuinely forgive him eventually, but I will never understand what could possess a person to do what this man has done. He is a coward in every sense of the word. He is the ultimate Runaway.

Maybe I'm just bad news. Maybe I really am that easy to walk away from and never look back. Maybe I'm the plague in this scenario. I'm trying to find some kind of logical explanation for all of this. I don't know. I just don't know. All I can say for sure is that, just once, I want someone to stick around. I want someone to hang around long enough to find a reason to stay. And if not that, then at least consider me worthy of even a simple goodbye. That's all I ask. For once, I want to feel like I'm worth staying the course for. I am so weary of The Runaways.

I think a change will do us all a little good.

I'm like a gremlin in many ways. I'm short. I sometimes speak in sounds rather than words. And if you give me coffee after a certain hour I won't be able to sleep and, rather than studying for my finance midterm, things like this will surface as a result:

I'm chronically restless. It's my natural state. I've never been able to sit still or hold a train of thought for longer than a goldfish might or stay the same for very long. I'm pretty sure I've been that way from conception. Gross, I know.

I'm a change fiend. I'm addicted to it. And I don't mean change of the coin variety, just in case that required any clarification. You never know.

Right now, I need a change. I'm dying for one, actually. I'm going to be honest and admit that things haven't been top notch lately. They've gotten better. And then they've gotten worse. And then I just became a little apathetic to it all. A girl can only deal with so many build ups and let downs before she just gives up hope in all that "things-will-be-better-in-the-morning" nonsense. This girl knows better.

It just so happens to be a whimsical coincidence that this current hunger for change aligns perfectly with the coming of spring. It's ironic. I love irony. So, maybe my subconscious knows better than the rest of me that my life needs some major spring cleaning. I wouldn't say it requires a total upheaval. Maybe just some major tweaks here and there. A little reupholstering, perhaps.

Traveling usually helps to qualm my restlessness. I'll be going home in about a week and that usually has a rejuvenating way of clearing my head. But it's more than that. Maybe I'll clean out my closet. Or maybe I'll dye my hair electric blue. Or maybe I'll jump out of the sky. Maybe I should do all of those things. And maybe I will.

But when I allow the rational portion of my brain to get a word in, I know that what I really, truly need is to take some time to get my head right, to put my heart back in its rightful place. I need to open my Bible instead of my mouth and let it do the talking. I need guidance and I need to find peace.

I might still purge my wardrobe, change my hair, and toss myself out of an airplane in the near future, because that's just the kind of person that I am. But I know my life and my own contentment depends on more than that.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with a few external and behavioral changes whenever you see fit. Right now is a completely appropriate time in my life for that. So, I don't see any reason I shouldn't go for it. But that restless pull deep down in my core can only be cured by an equally deep soul therapy session. That starts now.

A little change never hurt. Right now, it can only do me a whole lot of good.

Fear: That place between being a fake grownup and a real one.

I don't talk about my future or my career very much. Probably because I'm terrified of it. It's unclear and nowhere near set in stone, or even set in Play-Doh for that matter. It's this huge enigmatic puzzle that I would much rather shove to the farthest corner of my mind and forget about all together. And that's on a good day. But it's going to happen. It's happening as we speak, and pushing it into corners isn't going to change that.

Anyone who's done it knows that growing up is rough. Being an adult is not all we crack it up to be when we're playing house and telling our teachers what we want to be when we grow up. I'm twenty-one years old and allegedly considered an adult in the legal sense of the world. Yet, somehow I still don't feel anything like I thought I should when I crossed that intimidating threshold of adulthood. I know I'm still young and at that point when I'm just supposed to be finding my direction for my future. But I also know that I'm rapidly coming up on that time in my life when I actually have to be able to stand on my own two feet and support myself and make those "big girl" life decisions. I know that because the word "finances" has become commonplace in my everyday vocabulary and I'm actually using it in the proper context. But I don't look like an adult on paper. Honestly, I don't even think I look like an adult in person. But the reality is that no matter how young I look or feel, I am an adult and whether I like it or not is none of the world's concern.

It's starting to hit me. I'll be graduating next May and then the world is going to demand to know what my next move is. I'm so afraid that when that time comes, I won't have the slightest idea what I'm going to do next. When life comes knocking at my door and demanding to know what it is that I'm going to be now that I'm grown up, I don't want to be standing there dumbfounded, grasping at straws, hoping and praying that I can come up with an adequate answer when the hat drops. But my question for myself at this point is: Am I demanding enough of myself? Am I living up to my full potential? Am I doing what I should to get where I want to be? Am I working as hard or as persistently as I should be? Honestly, I don't think so. My answer to each one of those questions right here and now is a resounding "No!"

So, I guess the next thing I would have to ask myself at this point is "Why?" Why am I not where I want to be? Why am I not working as hard as I can to make the things I want most happen? Why am I not pushing myself harder and sacrificing more? I know that I can and I know that I should. So, what's stopping me? Usually, my answer would be that I'm standing in my own way, because I have that tendency. I'm frustratingly impossible that way. But that isn't the case this time. Every fiber of my being wants this. Every part of me knows that this is where I want to go. I want to be a writer. I want to do something that matters. I want to make an impact and leave a mark. When I really stop to think about it, the only thing that's holding me back is fear. Fear that I'm not good enough. Fear that I won't be able to handle it. Fear that I might fail.

But, then I realize that I must be doing something right if I'm so afraid. I have dreams big enough to elicit that kind of fear. It's a cliché that I hear so frequently: "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough." My dreams are enormous. And they're terrifying. And that's exactly as they should be. I've got that part right. But it's the follow through that has me stuck. It's taking the necessary steps and doing the work that's tripping me up. I've always been a hard worker and not even the least bit afraid of doing the work and getting my hands dirty. So, the only plausible answer is that I am absolutely, undeniably terror-stricken of jumping into my future with both feet. But if I don't jump, my future is still going to happen and if I continue to sit here refusing to accept that, I'm just going to be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Hiding under this veil of denial is not a means to an end. It's a road that leads nowhere.

Actually living requires us to take risks; big ones that make us want to hole up somewhere and hide. But risks are the gateway to anything worthwhile. No one ever failed because they took a risk. People fail because they do nothing. I won't get very far by playing it safe. I know that much. Most of the greatest experiences of my life happened because I took a leap of faith, because I didn't over think, because I had no fear of failing. I have lived by the mantra "Nothing worth having comes easy" for quite some time now. Lately, however, I haven't been doing such a great job of actually living that out. I've been caught up in my own head for too long. I have been distracted by my own fear and self-doubt all this time and it's made me forget why I'm here. It's time for me to get my head back in the game. It's time to stop being complacent and actually make things happen. I have all the tools in front of me. All I have to do is put the pieces together. I've rediscovered my drive, so now I'm praying for fire, endurance, and fearlessness. I want this and I'm ready to work for it. I'm not giving up until I've done what I was put on this earth to do.

This little girl wants to do big things. And she's going to. Mark my words. Literally.