Let Us Runaway

     Darling the time has come for you to leave this broken house. No it is not a home, don’t you dare place a title such as that upon it, as we both know it is not. It is a house, where in the kitchen lay shards of glass, from bottles of beer drunk not too long ago. Where the ballistic screams of  your mother can be heard at midnight, as your drunk father stumbles into the house.

     When we were young, perhaps 10 or 12, you conversed with me the lifelong dream you had to leave this secluded town. Always claiming that you felt confined, a hummingbird kept it’s whole life in a cage.

Over the years, you have silenced yourself. I can’t blame you though, for I have never had hues of lavender inking my ribs, or shades of night outlining my eyes, and much too often cheekbones.

      This place is suffocating, for the both of us. Nostalgia places concrete barriers, clouding our minds with dreams of a cherished childhood, running through daisy fields and sipping icy multi-colored drinks in summer. Though this is not how we were raised. Reality is the chains that bind us to this town. As we are  forced to remember time after time, that we are nothing but space here, names no one will remember, let alone care about, and ------- it I’m tired of this!

     So why don’t we leave? Disappearing into the night, never looking back, facing the world with new eyes. What shall we catch a glimpse at first? Milan? Copenhagen? Amsterdam? Berlin? Perhaps Budapest? To me it does not matter, only as long as it is far, far away from here.

     At the early of 4am, when the sun has yet to fully arise, and everything is tranquil, is when we shall make our escape. Slip out of your home, bags in hand; I will be waiting outside in my old 1970’s Ford Mustang.

    By midday we will start a wholly alternative life, from the one we have grown used to. One where all will be unexpected, adventurous, and most importantly, our own choice. We will plan road-trips to Mexico, when we have nothing better to do. When you and I, crave silence and serenity, we could go out to the countryside, blankets and pillows stored in the backseat, then when night comes out we may admire the stars. When everything feels all too much the same, we should explore an undiscovered part of the city, and possibly later that night, find a new coffee shop and share conversations over espresso. Wouldn’t that be nice?

    So darling runaway with me, and never look back. Don’t shed a tear over this close-minded town, for it has been nothing but wretched to us. We were once to naïve, perhaps even for our own good, but we have grown up, and realized that in this place we were the outcasts, and dear, I can no longer stand it.