What a ballsy 13 year old!

I'm always trying to come up with topics to blog about. My life isn't very interesting, so I don't have day to day things to report on. And then out of the blue, it came to me...On Facebook, I'm always doing these silly time-wasting surveys...You know, 25 random things about me...Or 100 questions or whatever...And sometimes, you come up with some rather interesting questions/answers. I never want to elaborate too much, I mean, there's already 100 questions...Who really cares enough to read a whole paragraph on each one? And then I realized, what the eff is the blog for???? So, today will begin my first post about my 100 Things. (I hope that link works...Someone let me know if it doesn't...)

084. Have you ever...Ran away from home → I started to – in 7th grade. Mom & Dad had walked down the street to a birthday party for a friend. I took the car…Pulled it out of the garage, started down the street and then my nerves got the better of me. I went around the block and got the car back into the garage. I don’t think they knew.

An old friend made a comment, asking if I really did this, and noted that it was a pretty ballsy move. Yeah, I didn't think it was at the time. I was what...13? I had a "boyfriend" whom I'd met online and had never actually met in person. He lived in the city - near Midway - and I in the south suburbs. We talked on the phone for hours at a time. I had a polaroid picture of him that he'd mailed to me. And the picture that he had of me...? Was totally NOT me. I don't remember if Google existed at that time or not, but I'd somehow found a photo of a young girl who I thought sorta resembled me. But she was far skinnier, had gorgeous hair...She looked like that All-American type girl. And Derek thought that's who he was talking to.

I can't, for the life of me, remember what we talked about. I do remember that his best friend really didn't like me and swore up and down that I was not who I said I was. Smart guy. But Derek believed me. We liked the same music, and if I remember correctly, he bought and mailed me the Alanis Morisette cd that I was obsessed with. "You Oughta Know" was played over and over at very high volumes. I'm sure my parents couldn't have been happier when that phase was over.

I don't remember why I thought it was a good idea to run away. I do remember that I was having a tough time with life in 7th grade. I think I started off on the wrong foot...I befriended a couple girls who were the "cool" ones. I wanted to be a part of their group so badly that I abandoned the people that really liked me for who I was. I developed a HUGE crush on a specific guy in our class, and was willing to do what it took to be his friend. In the end, it all came crashing down around me. I was belittled and felt very ostracized. These people whom I thought were my friends really weren't. I got to the point where I was suicidal...Or I wanted to be. I used needles and even a fishing hook to try to scratch away at my wrists. I cried a lot. And then I met Derek online. And I felt like he was going to make it all better.

After we'd been "dating" for a few months, I decided that I couldn't stand being who I was. I was unhappy and I thought that running away with Derek was the answer. We planned it all out. My parents were going to a 40th bday party for a friend down the street, so they walked over there. I was alone at home, with keys to Dad's car. I packed a bag and had directions to Derek's house. We didn't really know what we were going to do or where we were going to go. I don't even think I had money. I just felt like this was what I needed to do to get happy again. I called my friend Laura and told her that I was planning to do this. And she asked me not to. She told me that she'd always be there for me and that I should reconsider. I think she played the "Friends" theme song over the phone for me and told me that she meant it.

Despite Laura's urging me not to, I got in the car (which, btw, was a fuckin BOAT! I don't know how I managed to not scratch it when I was pulling in or out of the garage). I put the keys in the ignition and started her up. I was shaking like a fuckin leaf. I thought for sure I was going to get caught. My parents would be coming back early or I was going to crash the car or something equally disastrous. But I kept going. I started to drive down the street and panicked. I ended up going around the block and going back home. I parked back in the garage and called Derek to tell him I wasn't coming.

I think we broke up shortly after that. I still think of him every once in a while, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't looked for him on Facebook. I've googled him a couple times, too. And I think I may have found him, but I can't ever find a photo, so I'm not sure if it's him or not. That "friend" that had made my life so difficult in 7th grade didn't return the next year...I was thanking my lucky stars...I felt like I had a chance to start over again. And I think I did. Eighth grade was a lot less traumatic for me, and I never really felt the urge to run away again.

Sometimes, I wish I could run away now...Just grab my purse and some clothes and a pillow and leave. I don't know where I'd go or what I'd do, but the idea of being without responsibilities and without things to hold me down...Yeah, it's kind of intriguing. But I certainly don't have the balls to do it now...And I'm far too realistic to think that I could just up and leave everything.