I Want To Leave

I wrote this very early this morning, and it turned into a fairly fantastical and rambling journey into a somewhat surprising train of thought: What if I turned everything in my life so far, on it’s head?

Make of it what you will – but let me know what you make of it.

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I want to leave this life of mine behind.

And I don’t mean that in the suicidal sense (though I can see how for a few it might) – after all I have a pretty good life as it is: My job is challenging but enjoyable; I have a mortgage and a house; and I have great friends and family who love me.

But I still want to leave – and go on a big adventure. I don’t mean one of those bullshit journeys where I travel to the centre of the Congo and “find myself”. I know exactly where I am, and who I am.

It’s just that I am tied down to a number of things, that means I can’t run off and do whatever I want, or be wherever I want to be.

I guess it’s a natural protection that starts with your parents – they, lovingly, install you into a safe environment of familiarity (note the word connection – familiar/family) – one of education, growth and routine.

And the safety net provided by your family, and later your friends, becomes your default ‘safe place’ that you always return to, more often than not.

And, like my family, I love my friends.

This year i’m seeing four sets of them get married (one of the pair is technically family also), two of whom I am to be best man for.

So for me to leave now, would throw that all into disarray – potentially distancing friends, maybe even turning them into enemies.

Oh and I can’t leave my house. Not after all that paperwork I went through – especially now I have a stable and decent-paid job, that cuts down my debt to Barclays Bank plc, slowly, over the remaining 24 ½ years.

I actually thought about packing all my possessions and driving them back to my parents’ house and cramming them all into my old room, then not having to worry about what the bank did next:

There would no doubt be an argument at this point – with my dad I think – not really for ‘throwing away’ the money they loaned to help me buy the house; but mainly for renegading on a property deal that would give me some financial structural stability over the next decade or two.

And then there’d be an argument with mum, because I’ve set off dad, which would eventually turn towards (somehow) how I’ve ‘given up’ on God – and my whole catholic upbringing – something we’ve never discussed directly, but which is starting to be raised as a topic, stealthily, like the model snowman I got at Christmas, which – when opened up – contains the nativity scene.

And I couldn’t even begin to do this to my parents – at least not yet.

But I’d still want to leave.

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Of course, without paying for a house no longer, there wouldn’t be the need to keep on at my job.

A job which – when engrossed – I enjoy to a great degree; I get on with my colleagues – we connect on a number of basic levels, that suffice for the functioning of our erratic department.

Often, I still want to leave – mostly just for the drama of showing them (in my head) how much they would miss me and my skills – if only for a while.

But sometimes I take one or two further steps back, and remember; ultimately I don’t want to work for an organisation that perpetuates the notion that profit is a catalyst, above others.

At most times, it’s not like that – people there are generally working with good intentions – but the occasional comment strikes a warning discord.

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So why don’t I leave my current life?

A lot of it is not a fear of the unknown – outside my current life – but the warm embrace that the ‘known’ provides when my brain gives over to autopilot, and when that happens I am content with life’s routine.

Another part is rooted in these routines – they, on the whole, keep me happy and only occasionally wanting for the stereotypical highlights of “living” that the movies show us, and the lotteries promise us.

The final part is the respect and love I have for my family and friends – I don’t want to upset the apple-cart and throw people’s plans into disarray: I’ve been asked to be at my best friends’ side as he marries his bride – and I don’t want to disappoint.

After that thought, it is difficult to escape the ‘known’ – virtually impossible on your own.

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But what if there were someone else with me?

A companion – maybe something more?

Someone who would fill me with enough confidence to travel away from all this – to finally leave it all behind – to journey with me into the unknown?

And I think that might be what love is.

About five years ago, I used to think love was taking an existing friendship and secret crush, to the next level with someone.

I think I've now realised that way of ‘love’ is merely an embellishment of familiarity – of taking a Venn diagram of ‘you and her’, and squishing them together, so the circle where your love crosses is enough to carry you through the years.

But i’m not sure that’s for me.

I need someone who I can leave my current life with, and get out and live the life I’ve always wanted.

Life is starting to get too familiar around me – it even scares me a little.

But when we’re all scared, we crawl back into the fetal position, and return to what we known – the friends/shows that always make us laugh – the kindness/joy that family/colleagues sometimes bring.

It’s a cliche catch 22, but in order for me to leave things behind, I need to overcome a fear of the unknown – and I don’t think that I’m strong enough to do that on my own.

So for now, I’ll abide by the familiar – and continue down this path.

But when the time comes for me to leave; I do hope there is someone who wants to go with me.