When I was a child, I ran away often. I know most children run away from home from time to time, but I made a habit out of it. (I never stayed away for very long.) Sometimes for the normal reasons, like fighting parents or because I was afraid of the consequences for my actions… but sometimes I ran away for a stranger reason.
Every now and then, the walls of my idyllic world start tilting inward like a funhouse mirror, crushing the wind out of my soul. My feet start itching and all I want to do is run. My palms start sweating and all I want to do is grab the steering wheel of a car. My ears start popping and all I want is the feeling of altitude that comes when an airplane takes off.
I am chomping at the bit like a wild thing. My mouth is frothing at the thought of new people, new sights, something different that I’ve never experienced before.
And you know what the strangest part is? Usually I am a people person. The best place to find me is with someone I care about. A friend… my husband… family… but when I get like this, all I want to do is be alone.
….Craving the wind in my hair….