I didn’t care.
If I was caught it would be worse but if I stayed it would get worse too.
It didn’t matter.
I didn’t care.
I was disconnected. Always cold inside, and disconnected.
It was better to not feel. Feeling meant being surprised. Surprise was always scary. Better to stay alert and not be vulnerable by reacting.
That was how I lived.
I could tolerate a lot of pain that way.
I could commit unthinkable acts.
I did not have to have time to process. I just stuffed it elsewhere and another part of me rotated out to do life.
There was a constant low level anger. It only surfaced if something unexpected got in front of me and I felt blocked.
It didn’t seem that bad.
Nothing good lasts forever.
I did not know real joy but I did not get bogged down in negative emotion either.
What did I know?
Was there any other way?
So when I was dropped off at the shopping center with a little money to do some Christmas shopping and I was told to meet back in a few hours, an idea came and I acted on it.
Nothing ventured, nothing lost. It did not matter, what did I have to lose?
I found my way to the freeway.
I used my thumb to catch a ride.
And I left.
North, I thought.
Towards the ocean seemed right.
And I traveled.
Men picked me up, mostly.
I remember one ride, I got in the back with a couple of other teenage boys. We hopped on the freeway. We got behind another car in the fast lane. That car threw something out their window. A bottle. It hit our car. They car I was in exuded testosterone and we swerved close to the car in front of us, threatening with our recklessness. Surprise. The car swung over three lanes to take the next off ramp. We followed. Shit. There was going to be a fight. The guys I was with were primed for it. Until. The guy in the car ahead of us got out, with an axe in his hand. Uh oh. My ride went frantic in an instant, shouting and rolling up windows. The guy continued his approach. He got to our car. Raised the axe. Brought it down, hard on the roof. He calmly walked back to his car and departed. While the guys in my car began to assess what had happened and got out to look at the car, I quietly decided I might be better off finding another ride. There was no disagreement from their deflated egos. Onward. North. I traveled. There were many adventures. My life has been full. The money ran out fast, but there was me. I kept going. I traveled up to Washington…and back again. It took about 6 weeks. When I returned I asked my mom to emancipate me. I had proved I could live on my own. It was decided instead to send me to the midwest to live with my sister.
So I remained dependent, independent and traveled.
But I still didn’t care.
Or so I kept telling me.