girlonahalfshill

I was a runaway child. I ran away from home initially at sixteen years of age. Few characteristics distinguish me to this same degree. It colors who I bond with, who my friends are, what friendship and family mean to me, what home means to me, my goals and how I want to get there. I am not this way because I was a runaway child, but I was a runaway child because of the factors that brought me to that point and the fact that I was an unrepentant runaway means that much of the defiance that I felt at sixteen still resonates in me – somewhere. 
Don’t get me wrong. I was angry and hurt at sixteen in ways that no longer apply. I no longer feel the same degree of anguish and melodrama. But I still feel in a way that I half expected to have been dulled by age. I’m still driven by relationships and connection. I still swim in my emotions and feel that they are exceptionally significant.

And in many ways, the upcoming move to Pennsylvania is the kind of move that I’ve always hoped for. There have been moments when I’ve drooled over the idea of moving abroad, but I am rooted in the United States to an embarrassing degree. I want to travel the globe, but, especially with my dreams of becoming an attorney, I truly doubt that I will ever reside overseas.
But a move to the East Coast? That has felt predestined. Then why has it come at this particular moment?

I don’t know about all of the various sayings that get tossed around: The heart wants what the heart wants. Everything works out for the best. Love conquers all. Well, actually, I do have opinions about all of the above. I don’t really believe in any of them. I think that we often mistake our heads, habits, hobbies and hormones for our hearts. I think that “Everything works out for the best” is the sort of comment that (please forgive) upper middle class Americans can generally get away with saying because they are statistically in a position to believe such things, but my experience leans in a rather different direction, (I say while acknowledging the multitude of ways in which I am ridiculously fortunate and probably as likely to be as safe in such assumptions as my fellow Americans. And love, when it happens, can fall prey to all sorts of things. It isn’t nearly as hearty as we like to think it is. It scares the shit out of most of us – even sometimes in the platonic form, it can still make us feel vulnerable and insecure in all sorts of unexpected ways.

And it is with this mindset that I am facing down both this upcoming move, current travel and the probable effects of these ventures on my current relationship. A relationship that I wasn’t expecting – knowing that I was going to be leaving town, I had dated, but had avoided any serious entanglements… and then we started seeing each other as friends. And now I have someone miles and miles away who I don’t want to be away from at all.

And yet, I am no longer a Marin County resident and my future isn’t there. Bryn Mawr has granted me admission this Fall as a McBride Scholar. It’s a phenomenal opportunity and one that I won’t squander; in a different, but similar way, this summer’s travel plans with my boys are precious and not to be wasted.

We have made it to Kansas ahead of schedule. The boys and I decided unanimously last night to proceed with the road trip, but to cut out the fat and return to California a week or two earlier than originally planned. I miss him and I, frankly, feel rather silly galavanting cross-country when I’m missing him so much.

So, time to break out the drawing board again.