That time I ran-away…

They say, ‘you cannot run away from your problems’. And it is true; one cannot achieve that. Though we can run to something, away from the situation which causes problems. To say the least, I was drenched in problems; if my problems were liquid, observable by the human eye, I’d be walking around as though I had just showered with my clothes on. Sleep was could not be possible — I went almost two months with an hour or so a day; Fusion association took complete control of my mind, everything was bothering me, causing my day to be filled with obsessions and anxieties, associating colours with events, moments with past experiences. I was a dread. Constant fights at home became an everyday thing. What did I choose ? I ran.

For a whole month, I eagerly searched for ways to survive on the streets, find a place to eat, work and live out the rest of my gloomy presence. From blah blah car, to Eurostar, I left an electronic mark on transport sites… I had to be somewhere in Europe. It was June, sunny and bright for all, though dark for me. I finally brought a ticket to Germany, in so to volunteer for someone’s farm in exchange for food and a place to rest. I used work-away, a site that brings volunteers and ‘hosts’ together. Reading through the reviews poured hot water down my spine: Everyone enjoyed a good experience with their hosts, while I will be doing it to runaway.

I did not make the first ticket, lost the money… I don’t know… I think I was not sure, not precise if this is what I had to do. My family knew of it, but proved their opposition to it… I made the second train the next day…

I packed my things the night before and brought the next ticket. Not a sleep that night. The world hit with the sun, I readied to leave. I asked my mother to kiss me goodbye for a couple of months; she refused, saying, “If you leave now, you will never be welcome back”. Here I was, between me and the only thing making this, whatever I was about to embark, anything but a runaway… My mother made the final decision: Those words defined this experience – I was running away.

On the train to the underground, on the underground and during the passport check, all I could think of were second thoughts; “What am I doing. Is this the right thing to do ?” The captain signalled the passengers of our leaving. My mind was electric. I called my only friend, with the 30 mins of coverage I had left: “Bro, I have left England”.

He replied: “Finally, you did it”

 

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