Them And Us

Life can really throw you for a loop sometimes. Things can be going along great--or, at least you think they are--and without warning, everything can seemingly go to hell.
The thing is, there are no guarantees in this world. And that's what trips me up most of the time.

Dealing with people is not my strong suit. They are overcome with flaws, undependable, and disappointing. I often lose sight of the fact that I am the same way. I am human, too, and I expect others to understand that while I don't understand that about themselves. Rather a vicious circle, to be honest.

I spend the majority of my time alone. Partly, my decision; partly the decision of others. I don't seem to be the first choice of company or conversation. I'm viewed as toxic. And who's fault is that? As hard as it is to accept, its mine.

For a while now--months, actually--I've had the almost uncontrollable urge to leave. Just go. Get out. Move away. Disappear. Who would notice? Who would care? I've truly gotten to the point where I believe: no one.

My son has asked why. And my only answer to him is, "Come with me." I was not all that surprised after talking to him last night that his situation is not that dissimilar to mine. We live our lives parallel. Sometimes that's frightening. Sometimes its comforting.

We both had big blow ups with our "others" at the same time last night. I called him just as he was considering calling me. What are the odds? To some, this would seem coincidence. To us, this is common.

And we talked. And we cried. And we talked some more. So many of the same topics: relationship, money, lost, confused, approaching desperation. We both wanted to be left alone. We both wanted to talk. We reached a compromise. And somehow that I'm not sure about even this morning, we talked each other down from the edge of that cliff.

And here I am in the middle of the week. I'm going to work but, with every fiber of my being, I don't want to. I want to get in the car and drive. Just drive. To where, I'm not sure. West. Maybe west. West until there is no more cold, no more snow. West until it is hot. Just west. As far away from here and the pain, the failure, the disappointment, the defeat as I can get.

But will I actually do it? No. At least, not now. Not right now. There's no money. Not even enough to pay the bills. And I can't leave my son here. And strong as he is, as capable of survival on his own--as capable as I am--we are each other's rock. Neither of us will admit it to the other or to ourselves. But this fact remains painfully true.
Our lives are parallel. So how, how in the world, could I actually run away?