Posted 2:52 AM by Anonymous

I have an incredible, irresistable urge to run away. I keep fantasizing about leaving this place, my mum and sister (my loves but unfortunate constant reminders of my dad who just isn’t here anymore); I keep dreaming of running to New York, idealizing my 2 years there. Making it this paradise, a place where dreams really can come true – gorgeous people to look at, poetry corners to visit, shops full of beautiful clothes and cheap bargains to infiltrate.

I feel as if my life’s problems will be relieved if I can somehow get back there. Because nothing else seems to work – every morning, I’m forced to repeat the past 2 years in which I loved and loved and loved but lost the 2 men that have ever only meant the world to me.

I feel as if magically, once I’m back there, I’ll be able to move on – to meet people I am actually interested in talking to (and not just because I have to), to somehow gain a semblance of a social life again, to start focusing on my life and where its going.

Of course, there were those times that I’m choosing not to recall. Those times that I’d sit in my apartment, feeling like I had no one in the world, my family a thousand miles away, my friends in cities I didn’t know. Lost. In the city of a million people just like me.

Somehow, I still want to go back to that. Somehow, I’m convincing myself that anything would be better than the days that stretch out long and bleak here.

Am I kidding myself? Will I just be running from one hopeless situation into another? Or will this truly help me move on and start anew?

Well, if I really do hand in my job resignation at the end of the month as I’m planning, then I’ll have no choice but to find out.