That One Time I Ran Away From Home When I Was 29

It's not nearly as cool as it sounds.

I prepared for it.

I told others where I was going.

I took my son with me.

Whatever. Let me have my rebellion...even if it was more of a I-can't-handle-this-right-now-so-I-should-leave-and-leave-I-shall.

Eric was my excuse and Boise, my destination. I begged politely asked my sister if we could come stay with her & her husband. I may or may not have used the The Bedrock of My Life is Eroding Beneath Me card in order to increase my odds.

And off we went.

We didn't really have a plan. I just wanted to go. To give my hands something to do.

I wish I could find words that were happy enough, emphatic enough, to express how good it was to see LoriAnn. She and I are only 15 months apart - worst enemies during our earlier years; closest best friend I've ever had since...well, since we stopped fighting. You know that eerie connection twins have? Yeah, well, we don't have that. But I assume we have something pretty close to that. And what we lack in "eeriness" we make up for in being dumb (documented proof included farther down in this post.)

Eric and I decided to hit the zoo. I would take him every year when he was little & I stayed home with him. Like me, he is an animal lover. This only became an issue when we'd hit the gift shop and suddenly his stroller was full of stuffed animals. It had been a couple years since we had been and, alright alright...I was probably more excited than he. I mean, 7 is way too mature for the zoo, right?

Right. EXCEPT WHEN THERE ARE DINOSAURS. (Thank you, Lord.)

 

They were so stinkin' cool! They moved and made, what I am assuming are, scientifically accurate sounds because they sounded just like Jurassic Park which is pretty much a documentary.

Eric and I were looking at some of the monkeys and angry-looking birds of prey when all of a sudden I got quiet and asked him what that sound was. (Please don't ask me what it was specifically. It was a dinosaur noise of some sort. They even had the name of the dinosaur on an easy-to-read, sound-it-out sign. Do I remember what it was? No. But it was AWESOME.) He furrowed his brow and looked at me like I was crazy until the sound carried through the cages again. His entire face transformed.

Sorry, Mr. Bald Eagle, the symbol of American liberty & justice for all, Eric can see you on a dollar bill anytime. There are dinos afoot!

 

We had the best time journeying through the zoo, excited to discover the next dinosaur amongst the other wonderful exhibits. It was such a hot day that many of the animals were sprawled in the shade, which often happened to be right near the viewing windows. The jellyfish seemed unphased.

(The dark creature Eric is looking at below is the Sloth Bear.)

We made our way back around to the entrance where Eric tricked me into buying an ICEE in a souvenir cup. Ok, ok, he didn't actually trick me, but he's cute and that counts as a form of trickery.

We were pretty sweaty ourselves so we decided to head back to our air-conditioned digs so Eric could play some video game apps on Auntie Lori's Kindle and I could spend time with my sister. We could not have been happier.

The next day, I decided to surprise Eric with a trip to the Idaho Aquarium. As it is fairly new, I had never been either and was excited to see what was in store. We were not disappointed!

We make rather stunning mer-people, if I do say so myself. He didn't think it was near as endearing as I did that I was Ariel and he was my Prince Eric. Sigh. Can a sentimental bone be attached via prosthetic?

I was absolutely astonished at how hands-on everything was. So many of the displays and animal exhibits were open to allow you access and towels were hanging strategically nearby to dry your hands. The only guidelines the signs really asked us to follow were, "Please do not remove the ______ from the water. Or squeeze them." Fair enough.

One of my favorite parts was the shark & manta ray pool. The sharks stayed pretty near the bottom, out of arm's reach, but the rays were swimming so close to the surface that we were often splashed by them. We were able to just put our hands out and feel their rubbery, slippery skin glide beneath our fingers. Such curious, fascinating creatures. One gal had a little piece of food she was dangling next to the rock wall. One of the rays was trying so hard to get it, you could hear it making loud sucking sounds as it poked out of the water.

There was also a large tank/aquarium that was for viewing-only. It housed a lot of different fish, sharks, eels, and crustaceans. Some of the biggest lobsters, crabs, and starfish ever! It was really amazing to be able to stand next to the large "windows" and be able to take a look into a section of the ocean, so to speak.

They also had a variety of other exhibits and smaller aquariums. There was a reptile section with chameleons, poisonous frogs, and snakes. Oddly enough, these were not hands-on. However, Fred, the gigantic iguana, was left out & unsupervised on the top of an old-boat-turned-anemone-exhibit. Eric loved him.

There was also a shark "nursery" where baby sharks and shark eggs were kept while the mothers were out shopping or getting their hair done or just sitting alone in the quiet drinking wine from a coffee mug. (This is speculation.)

And not to spoil the movie for anyone, but...I found Nemo. He wasn't even really that hard to find. And yes, in the above photo of me and the shark, that is my son's hand, photo-bombing my exclusive "close-call". I get no respect.

We continued on to Ann Morrison Park with Eric's Razor scooter. It was such a nice day, lots of disc golf was being played, and the playground & fountain were the perfect pit-stops as Mom (me) was making us walk...a lot. Ok, so I may have not known exactly where I parked. But it was a shady spot and the after-church crowd got cray-zay so it was totally worth doubling back. Right, Eric? Eric?? (Also, to the dolt of a fisherman that left a tangle of fishing line with 3 rusty hooks dangling from it in the middle of a park: It's fine! No need to worry! My son's sandaled foot found it! WHEW.)

Now, for the last installment in the longest post ever, please prepare yourselves for a visual how-to on class, grace, dignity, and the "ugly laugh":

(Photos & trip taken July 20-21, 2013.)

The End

How? How can something that appeared to be so great and perfect end so suddenly? So suddenly that even the people around me had the wind knocked out of them?

There is no simple answer. There never is.

I could go into a monologue, detailing specific instances that might shed some light on such an abrupt end. But is it really important to anyone but me? And if not, is it important enough to me to relive here?


To spare us both, I will try to turn the muddled intricacies into a more clean-cut summary:

Sean could not swallow the idea of marriage and what he thought that meant.

This was for better and for worse. I know this. All the "better than after the altar" sentiments are well-intentioned but seem ironic because that was the issue in the first place. But yes, to have successfully dragged him down the aisle only to find out he was consumed with dread the whole way would've been...just...can you even imagine the heartache...if it's anything like what I'm trying to survive now...sweet Jesus, no.

What I'm going to say next is not meant as an insult or offense in any way; Sean has admitted this openly, so it is safe for me to repeat here: Sean has a...unique...view of relationships. And we both had to find out exactly how unique...the hard way.

The hard way being two years full of memories and pictures (oh my goodness, so many pictures) and emails and texts before the truth was blurted out when I demanded an answer.

I know something about me...I know that I can struggle with patience. Especially when I don't understand something. I want more information so I can understand so I can take the next step so I can feel productive. And I know that as time wore on, I was impatient with him. I couldn't understand his outlook or why it was so bleak. And he told me that he didn't understand where his outlook came from or what influenced it, that it was just there and that he knew it was messed up. And that "something" that he couldn't explain made me feel like I wasn't worth it.

I know he tried to push himself past it sometimes. But when you believe a certain way for so long...it's hard to let it go. It is uncomfortable and it is risky. And, from personal experience, that is scary. Even when evidence might be staring you in the face. Evidence does not equal comfortable. Knowledge and feelings...well, those are two very different things. And Logic cannot simply flip the Feelings switch.

And this was so, so hard for me. To be doing and showing and "proving"...and to know that his head and his heart were watching, but not convinced. Doing, showing, and proving turned into explaining, persuading, and convincing. "See? I'm still here! We may not agree on _________, but I still love you. See? If you could maybe try talking to me about _________, you'll see it's not so bad. See? There's so much good here. See...?"

And sometimes he caught a glimpse of it. And it was interesting to watch the mixture of relief and surprise pass over his face. And he would tell me he loved me and things would align again. And sometimes...most times I felt like I didn't know what else to do to remove the doubt. And then I would, in my exasperation, ask him what more he wanted. And he didn't have an answer for me because who ever has an answer to that question?

Not seeing eye-to-eye on something made Sean very uncomfortable. To the point of shutting down, retreating. And it was nearly impossible to talk about anything relationship-oriented: "serious" issues, seeing eye-to-eye, or even the lovey stuff. Because communication was an admitted devastatingly weak point for him. And, unfortunately, I didn't know how to handle that without talking about it. It was exaggerated by the tragic fact that my love language is Words of Affirmation. This difference reared its head often...and left Sean distressed and me very hurt.

And that discomfort finally outweighed our past victories and all of our potential. And, given his specific personality, retreating from it was the only thing I think he knew to do...

I asked him to stop telling me he loved me and to tell me what he wanted.

"We're not good right now....I don't think it's going to work..."

And on Wednesday, July 17, 2013, on my lunch hour, everything stopped...but me.