...and never come back?
Well, I have.
I have this reoccuring fantasy where I run away from home (with all the money from Husband's and my savings account AND my kid) and I don't tell anyone where I'm going and I just leave. I've thought about going somewhere like Idaho or Montana. And like someone in the witness protection program, I just disappear and start over.
I am sure a therapist would have a field day with this little fantasy of mine. I'm not sure exactly what it means other than I get sick of my life sometimes. It's normal, right?
Of course, I'd probably eventually tell my really close friends where I am. I mean, I don't want to end up on a milk carton or arrested for kidnapping my child or whatever happens to people who do that sort of thing. And I guess I'd have to tell Husband, because, after all he is Daughter's father and it wouldn't be right to deny him or her the benefit (or dysfunction) of their relationship. Oh, and I suppose I'd have to tell my mother. She'd kill me if I did something like this and didn't clue her in on my scheme.
In the process of telling my friends, my husband and my mother...it would seem that my fantasy would be a big, fat bust. What would be the point of running away from home and then telling everyone about it -- other than I'd be in fucking Idaho (no offense to any Idaho-ians out there, but at least in Michigan I have the freaking Red Wings and some decent pizza and coney islands, and some lakes to visit and shit like that)? Dammit. Guess my ass is staying right where it is.