Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Runaway

14


After my surprise around my thirteenth birthday, I had largely decided to ignore my 'situation' by burying myself in my school studies, work, and hobbies. But by August of Nineteen Eighty-Four I had run out of work and didn't know if I'd ever find any job again. While I was still attending Business College, with them allowing type written work, my grades were no longer held back by my limited ability to write by hand. And what few hobbies I had petered out between projects.
It occurred to me I wanted to tell somebody about my 'situation'...
At the same time I knew no good would come of it.
I realized I avoided making new acquaintances, though through the happenstance of life I still did. When visiting Jeff's house, there'd be other people visiting some days and thus I'd meet them to. Going to classes, I'd get into the classroom and after a couple months being with the same group of students you at least learned their names and chatted about the subject matter or the weather during class breaks. When mother would engage me in conversation on the rare times we were both in a same room together, I would talk about these people I met, 'Chris', 'Pat', 'Jessie', 'Casey' and my mother eventually shouted, ''What sex are these people?!?!?!?!''
This was when I noticed I had adopted a pronoun light way of talking about people over the years. I'd say ''I saw Jessie at school today and we talked about the coming midterms and what things to do over the weekend. Jessie's kid had to see the doctor again for a sore throat, I hope it isn't serious and Jessie doesn't miss too many classes.'' After mom's outburst, I reflected and realized that I had naturally drifted into doing this over the eight years since my thirteenth birthday. I guess by taking the gender pronouns out of my language, I was making it easier for me to fit in.
I would often sit at home after school and chat online with Jeff and think to myself, I'll tell him. I'll type about it in my next sentence. Just after we finish this little bit, then I'll let him know. But I never did. With each new person I met, I'd tag-on in my mind One more person to be horrified and have nothing to do with me once they found out. I'd be friendly with everybody, but unless we had a point of interest that we were both avid about, I never got that involved with their lives. When visiting friends it was always with a task in mind, I would never visit them just to socialize. My 'situation' made this easy: Girls wouldn't be more than polite to me for fear that I might get 'interested' in them. Most boys didn't connect with me as they'd most often be interested in sports, or getting girls to bed. Two topics I had no interest in. Unless you were interested in computers, science fiction, writing, or similar music, you never seemed to get to know me.
But I'd sometimes get to know you.
When I'd first lie in bed after my thirteenth birthday and ponder my 'situation', I decided I'd adopt the Golden Rule in life. As I'd like someone to listen to me, I'd make sure I'd become a good listener. As I'd like someone to pack my groceries well, I'd make sure I packed their groceries well. As I liked computer programs that were comfortable to follow and use, I'd make sure the computer programs I wrote would be that way. If someone was in their car and blocked with merging lanes or trying to get out of a parking lot, I'd be the one to let them by. I'd always say 'please' and 'thank you' and sometimes be made fun of by friends for how unnecessarily polite I was. And with the Golden Rule I knew I was setting the example for others to follow.
I'd be the person that others would naturally gravitate to when they wanted to talk about their lives, brainstorm problems of their own, or just have someone to listen to them when no one else would. They figured I'd never betray their trust as I never gossiped or talked poorly about other people behind their back. These stories of friends, relationships, parents and work all entered my head and once in a great while the most I'd do with them is pull out bits and pieces for characters in the stories I'd write. But only bits and pieces, never full tales. Those just stayed locked in my mind until the next time someone wanted to talk more about their woes, then I'd recall where we had last left off.
And in return I waited for that day when I could talk to them about the 'situation' in my life, when they would ask me if I had any problems I was facing and needed to talk about...
But it turns out the vast majority of people, or at least the vast majority of the American's I've met, like to talk about their lives at length more than they like to hear about your problems. And so I listened to people and in return I never told.
And by August of Nineteen Eighty-Four, without other distractions to keep my mind occupied, I was bursting with the desire to tell someone, anyone, of the 'situation' in my life. And the only reason this dam didn't break is because I knew no good would come of it. My friends would no longer be my friends simply because they wouldn't know what to make of it, become uncomfortable and simply avoid me. Acquaintances would become gossips, using the news of my 'situation' as grist for the rumor mill. And each new person I met I realized would become another person to lose when they found out.
After another chat session with Jeff online we ended it late at night and I was pent-up to bursting and grabbed my keys, my billfold, and hopped in the car. I just drove straight west, into the mountains and through them, for the next few hours as if running away from my life and leaving it all behind me. I toyed with the idea of finding some unknown town and starting anew. No one would know me, and I wouldn't know them and I'd have a fresh start... And then I realized that as I met them, they'd just become more people to abandon me once they found out about my 'situation'.
I couldn't run away from my problems because they were part and parcel of me. There was no place I could hide where I wouldn't be. No matter how far I drove, I would never get away from myself.
After two hours, I pulled over onto the side of the lonely mountain road and sat there for a bit in the night, only the lights of my car and the twinkle of the stars breaking the blanket of darkness surrounding me.
Twenty minutes later I turned the car around and took my problems back home.




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