To Walk, or Not To Walk

I don't think I could do it.

Turn my back on life and just walk away. 

My father posted on his blog about a man who did, who went for a walk and just kept going, and never went back, and I don't think I could.

There's so much stuff, so many people, so many attachments.  I mean, for instance I am married, which I presume this man wasn't.  Or at least if he was, he can't have liked his wife very much.  I happen to like my husband.

And then there's Everything Else.  I mean, if I were single and unattached, as I presume this man was, the comforts of life are just... rather pleasant really.  Take my pillow for example - I mean, I even take it on overnights with me now.  (or rather, I take a carbon copy [it's not actually carbon]). 

Friends, well other than my husband I think I could keep walking.  I have friends, but over here they're more like acquaintances and back home is already a long way away so I don't think I could walk further.

I think I would be lonely though.  For awhile I would enjoy the quiet and I could even talk to myself - I do that a lot anyway.  There's something about talking to yourself.  I always understand what I'm talking about and usually I have some pretty good responses, solutions, you name it.  But I do depend on other people.  Sometimes I do need a shoulder to cry on, or an opinion other than mine to ask for.  And sometimes it's nice just to have someone else there.

Sometimes I would like to do it.  I'd like to just say 'FINE' or 'you know, WHATEVER' or 'I'm DONE' or whatever else comes into my mind when I'm altogether over it.  To fling down whatever I'm doing and just walk.  To keep going.  Sometimes I consider getting into my car and just driving.

But then I wonder what I would do when I got there.

And of what I left behind.

And how would I get back?

And I get scared and stay where I am.  And let's face it, that's where I'm going to stay, because however tough life might seem in an instance, and however an argument might just be TOO MUCH, or I just can't handle it any more and work, or home, or life itself is just drowning me, there is always tomorrow.

Or quite often, there is 5 minutes' time, when I've taken a deep breath and realised that I've got it pretty good.  That I've got a loving husband, a good job, a nice apartment - a new puppy, even - AND two pretty awesome pillows - and I don't think any of that is worth walking away from.

So I think I'll stay here.

And be.