Running from Life - 1. Chapter 1: The first days

“You don’t just want to go to Lily City, you’ve got a reason for it.”

I look up from the puzzle I was doing. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said you were just traveling around, without a destination, but you specifically wanted to go to Lily City. Why’s that?” Elle asks.

I met Elle the second day of my vacation. I got rid of my bike as soon as I could. I know the plan was to only travel by bike, but do you realise how much work that is? I couldn’t sleep the first night because of my sore legs. And I even went to a fancy hotel!

Yeah, I know, that’s not as planned either. But you know, I think I earned it, right? It’s my own money anyway; money I earned from the blog. It’s not going to be super luxurious, but I will go and eat in restaurants when I’m hungry, and I will sleep in hotels instead of on some cold floor.

So okay, I dropped my bike behind a little bush, hopefully someone will find it and have some fun with it. I decided to continue hitchhiking and it’s actually working out!

I met Elle on the second day, while having dinner in a restaurant that’s way too fancy for someone my age, traveling alone. I was even sent away when I asked if it was possible to eat there, they didn’t believe I could afford it. When I convinced them otherwise, I got my own table, not that far away from Elle. She was on her own too.

She talked to me. People never talk to me, but she did. She didn’t ask me how I could afford it, she didn’t ask me where my parents were, no, she asked me what I ordered. It was twenty minutes later before she asked me what I was doing all the way out here on my own. By then she was already sitting at my table.

I explained it all. Well, not all of course, I will never tell people everything. I told her that I was traveling alone, because I needed time to think. It was supposed to be only two weeks, I told her, I was hitchhiking because I wanted to see the world. She told me she was traveling around for the same reason, but she had a car. Long story short, here I am, getting a ride to Lily City.

“I’m not sure if I want to tell you,” I answered.

You can understand that right? It’s the truth. She has this thing, you see, for some reason I feel like I can’t lie to her. She would notice if I tried. That's what I think.

“That’s no problem,” she laughs it off. “We all have our little secrets.”

I smile. “So why are you going there?”

“Because you told me you wanted to go there.” She points to a roadsign, 240 km, it reads.

I frown. “When I told you I was going there, you acted as if it was a coincidence because you were going there too.”

“When I say I’m traveling without a purpose or destination, I’m really doing that,” she tells me. “So no, I don’t mind where I’m going. You on the other hand, have a reason you’re going there. I sense it."

She is falls silent a moment. “But you shouldn’t feel obligated to tell me.”

“Thanks,” I say, returning my attention to the puzzle. But I can’t concentrate on it. Elle is right, I want to go to Lily City for a reason.

“So how long are you planning on staying there?”

“I’m not sure yet. As long as I need.”

“Okay, fine. You can ask me, you know?”

I look at her confused.

“The crossword puzzle, I mean.”

Ah, got it, I know she meant more than just the puzzle.

It's my third day on the road. I texted mom the first day. I told her my phone would probably be dead most of the week, as I will never be able to charge it while biking around. After that, I removed the sim card. I’m leaving my old river behind, I should’ve been able to destroy it, but I couldn’t.

Maybe deep down I still believe I will return home before the end of the week. You know, secretly I hope that I believe that’s still possible. It’s weird, isn’t it? I chose to leave. I made that decision, I wanted to disappoint everyone in my life, leave everything behind. Yet still, deep down, I sometimes hope I will go home. As if that is not a choice I can make consciously. If I really want to go back, why don’t I tell Elle to drop me at the next gas station?

Next week, when I’m supposed to be home, I’ll send another text message, in case she didn’t read my goodbye note. I can’t leave her behind without telling her it’s on purpose. Otherwise she might think something happened, maybe the worst, she might fear I’m dead. I can’t do that to her, it would break her heart. I will anyway, break her heart, I know that much, but there are levels of heartbreaks, you know that? So I’m going to text her, tell her that I felt trapped in my own life, that I don’t feel like I belong, that’s why I chose to leave. She doesn’t need to worry, I’ll tell her that, even though I know she will. I will ask her not to call the police, because if she did, they would probably find out about my bank account with my blog donations credited to it.

“You never told me why you felt you needed time away from home,” Elle speaking jolts me back to reality.

“You never told me why you needed time, either.”

She smiles. “Well, I’m was working as a financial advisor at the airport last May, when that shooting happened.”

I don’t say anything.

“My mother came by to see me. I hadn’t been working there long, really only just started. Sod’s law, wrong place, wrong time. She was one of the ten victims who got shot.”

“Oh,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be.” She focuses on the road again, probably giving me space to reply or ask something, but I don’t. I can’t.

Damn, it can all be over like that. Just snap and you’re gone. And you wouldn’t even realise it.

“I was really close with her and I always thought that if I’d ever lose her, it would affect me a lot. But actually, even though I have been sad for a few weeks, it’s much better now. You know, she just died, but you have to sleep, get up, eat, work and everything. Life just goes on. You feel like it does, even though sometimes it feels weird.”

Another silence. “And when you’re making dinner, just a week after the shooting, it kinda feels like you’re supposed to mourn. I was constantly blaming myself for doing all those completely natural things. I was in fact blaming myself for living.”

“That’s called survivor’s guilt.”

“I know it is. But knowing it, is something completely different from feeling it. I’m taking some time off, but that’s actually not because of my mother. The shooting, that’s what really affected me. There were screams, people were running, I heard the shots. I saw people dying. I saw my mother collapse. She turned around, I thought she was looking for me… I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“No, you can if you want to. I’m a good listener.” I force a little smile.

“I saw the shooter’s face. It was pure anger I saw there, like, real anger. I never saw someone that angry, and this person wasn’t even personally angry. He didn’t even know the people he shot.”

“Damn, I bet you were terrified.”

“Actually, I wasn’t. There were people running and hiding, but I didn’t. After I saw my mother on the ground, my world just stopped turning, you know. Losing family like that, when you don’t see it coming, I think that could be the worst pain in the world.”

Even when it’s your own choice to lose them?

“So, what’s your reason for feeling like you need time to think?”

“Well, my story is way less frightful. Just teenage things, I think. Things that happened with my friends and in my family.”

“Do you want to tell me what kind of things?”

“Yeah, okay. You see, I live with my mother and my brother, my dad left us when I was very young. As a result, my mom has to work a lot, she’s almost never home. But I have a good relationship with her. My brother though, he’s autistic. I’ve had a lot of fights with him, although I tell myself all siblings fight. Still, there is this tension in my family, you know? I can feel it when we’re having dinner, a little mistake could mean a night full of screaming. Especially between my mother and my brother, as I learnt to disappear to my room whenever I can.”

“That sounds like a good reason to want some time off.”

“I know right?” I smile.

“And with your friends?”

I hesitate. “My best friend told me she liked me, but I don’t like her back, at least, not in that way. So again, a lot of tension there. Together with someone else we form a clique of three people. This other guy in the group, he told me he liked the girl, the one who likes me. But she doesn’t have feelings for him.”

Elle laughs. “That sounds like teenage problems alright. You just have to like that guy to complete the triangle.”

If only you knew. I laugh at that, but it isn’t a genuine laugh, it’s forced, painful even. In Dutch they’d say “he’s laughing like a farmer with toothache”.

I take a look at my phone to check my emails. I see there are a lot.

“Hey anonymous blogger.

Let me start this email by telling you that I completely understand the post about the rivers. I tried to leave my river behind as well. It didn’t work out, however. I won’t tell you what choice to make, but always remember that your readers will be here for you. We would understand it if you choose to go back to your old life. If you ever need help, just ask for it.

I love your blog! Good luck finding your new river.”

Most of the emails were similar to this one. They told me they didn’t agree, or they told me they accepted my choice. Some people even sent me stories about how looking for another river worked out for them. Then I notice a mail from the anonymous reader.

“Hey AB.
I did as you advised me to, I told the person I liked that I liked him. It went wrong, AB, it all went wrong. I'm so sad now. I told him at a party... he didn't say a thing. I guess he was confused. He doesn't like me, I knew that much, but I just had to tell him. Sometimes a secret gets so hard to bear that you just have to let go of it. The consequences of getting it out in the open don't even stack up against the pain of keeping the secret. Well, I think you wouldn't understand, because your whole life is a secret, isn’t it? Well, I told him, he didn't say a thing. It became too hard for me, so I took off. I grabbed my jacket and walked away.
Wait, I should tell you that a friend of mine told me this guy could never be gay. They liked each other and in some way already had a relationship, even though that wasn't in the open yet. They even had sex and so on, she told me. Still I was stupid enough to come out to this guy.
So I walked away, but he followed me. He did something I don't quite understand, not even after two days thinking about it. He told me he liked me too, he kissed me and walked away. Maybe he found me pathetic or something? Maybe he thought kissing me would somehow change my disappointment? I have to admit, I totally melted when his lips touched mine, but when he turned away without saying a thing and just took his stuff and rode away, I knew it wasn't a real kiss. And now he doesn't answer his phone. I feel so bad.... I don't know why I’m telling you about all this, you won't be able to help me. I'm just confused. I am sad.
Blah, if I were you I wouldn't even read this email. It's just some pathetic young heartbroken guy rambling on to someone he doesn't even know.
To be honest, I don't even know why I liked him. Of course, he is cute as hell, that helps, but that isn't my only reason, I guess. I don't know what other reason I could have, but just the looks of someone aren't enough for me. At least, I tend to think of myself as someone who doesn’t just like a person because they're good looking. I want someone with a wonderful personality as well. I can't know for sure if this guy is like that, I don’t know anything about him really. He is very mysterious. Maybe that's what I like about him? Could that be it? He probably is a real thinker, an overthinker. He is someone who could need love, maybe that's what makes him attractive? I can just imagine wrapping him up in my arms. Making him feel safe, feel loved, wanted.
Ugh, here I go again. He is straight as hell and is probably scared by some random guy having the hots for him. I would be scared if I were him. So yeah, I don't blame you, AB. I think in some way finally getting rid of this secret is better in the end. Right now it hurts, but at least now I know I don't have to hope for something. Before I told him, I kept thinking I picked up gay hints or something. I just kept convincing myself that he could be gay or something. It's weird, I know. I'm weird.
I'll go over to him tonight. I want to talk, because after what happened, I fear he doesn't want to be my friend anymore. I wasn't his best friend, well, I don't think he has any real friends anyway, but I can't lose him. I'd rather be heartbroken and close to him than not be able to see him at all.
I'll let you know what happens after I meet up with him! I hope your journey is working out for you? You really earned the time off. Please keep us updated! Peace out,
Anonymous reader.”

I frown. Sam told him we are in a relationship? And we had sex?! What kind of sick joke is this? I don’t know what to think of the things he says about me. I feel flattered, in some way, but I feel disgusted too, as if I can’t imagine him feeling that way about me.

“What’s wrong?” Elle asks.

“Nothing much. Just got an email from one of my friends about all this liking each other stuff. It’s just complicated.”

“You shouldn’t be reading your emails, Matt,” she says. “This is your time off, remember?”

“I know,” I sigh, “but the other mails are important.”

She laughs. “I bet they are!”

I look up from my phone, happy she’s distracting me from writing a reply. “What do you mean?”

She hesitates for a few seconds. “Well, I meant… I overheard you when you ordered in the restaurant. You told the waiter that you have your own little business, so I thought those emails were business.”

“Ah, of course. Yeah, it’s work.”

“Can I ask you what exactly you do, then?”

“You can, but I don’t think I should give you an answer.”

I can see she doesn’t understand.

“It’s kinda not a good thing when people think the company is owned by a guy my age,” I explain.

I focus on the mail again, but decide not reply to it yet. Seth is going to my house today… I wonder what my mother will say. Does she even know him? Ugh, I hope he doesn’t tell her about the kiss.

Wait, why do I mind? I left them behind. Come on, Adam, start accepting it!

I start writing.

“Sometimes it scares me how vulnerable we are. I talked about my fear of death already, but that fear goes hand in hand with being terrified that everything can just be over in a second. You might not even realise it. There is a thin layer of skin protecting us from the many bad things in the outside world. If it gets damaged, you could easily get infected with some illness and maybe die from it. But even apart from the outside illnesses, if one cell in our body makes a mistake, you could die. One person with intense hateful feelings could buy a gun or one driver could lose it for a moment, his muscle could suddenly contract, resulting in the car moving towards a wall.

It is all just probability, you don’t have any influence over it. Just like it is all just probability that I’m me. If a guy over 100 years ago had not wanted to buy a watermelon, then the seller wouldn’t have had enough money to buy a horse, so he wouldn’t have travelled to the other side of the country. He wouldn’t have met a beautiful woman, married her, had kids; my grandparents. This one watermelon could make the difference between these bytes on the internet being used for this blog or something completely different. And even if all the chances add up and I get born, still there are so many environmental influences to get me where I am today. To make me the person I am right now. That makes me wonder about all the people that aren’t here today. I’m not talking about people who died, but about the possible people who could be living now. How many people will not exist?

It’s weird, that question echoes in my head, but I know there isn’t an answer. The question doesn’t even exist. It feels weird, doesn’t it? Think about it again; how are the people that do not exist.

Existence is weird.

I think this terrifies me because I don’t have an answer. Even thinking about it doesn’t give one. Moreover, I know for sure there won’t ever be an answer. Someday I will die, my consciousness will fade away. The only way to avoid these scary thoughts is to not think about it. But, you know, sometimes when I’m not thinking about it, I start blaming myself for not doing that. As if I can only enjoy life best when I realise it will be over one day, even though that realisation makes life less enjoyable at the same time. This probably feels like rambling to you guys, it does to me too. But this is what I’m thinking right now. Maybe it’s all part of my search for another river?

Thanks everyone for the nice messages I got after my last blog entry! I always like getting messages from you guys! Talk to you later.”

“We’re in Lily City already,” Elle says with a smile while driving towards the exit. Woah, the time went really fast.

“Nice!”

“So, I’m not sure what you want to do in this city, but does it start today already? Or do you want to grab a drink somewhere first?”

“I’d like that! Are you going to stay here too?”

She thinks for a minute. “I was about to offer to stay here and wait for you to finish your business, but you said you didn’t know how long it would take. I can’t wait around for that, I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, I understand! Of course you can’t stay, this is your holiday too.”

“You know what? I could give you my phone number. Maybe our paths will cross again while we’re traveling around?”

I smile again, damn, I’m doing that a lot today. That’s a good thing, right? “I’d love that! Let’s look for a place to grab a drink first.”

Elle parks the car and we get out. The sun is shining, even though the afternoon is already nearing an end. I stretch my legs. “Can I leave my bags in your car for now?”

“Of course you can. By the way, do you have a place to stay for the night?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we can ask the bar owner, maybe he'll know somewhere. But first… I’m thirsty!”

I laugh and look around. Lily City, at last. A few years ago I was about to come here, but I didn’t. I was so close then, just a day before I planned to travel here, I heard it wasn’t possible anymore. And now, finally, three years later, I’m here. This city already feels like home.

Elle and I walk to the closest bar. She orders a red wine and looks confused for a few seconds when I order a beer, but she doesn’t say anything. The bartender doesn’t ask for my ID, probably because I’m with an older woman, so he thinks it’s my mother and he doesn’t want to ask for ID. I’ve done it a few times with my mom as well, as she never minded if I drank beer or not. It’ll probably be harder when I’m on my own, without Elle to act as my mother.

We chit chat a bit. I’m really enjoying it. It’s weird, yesterday she was a complete stranger, but now I feel like I really know her. Of course I know her better than yesterday, we just spent a few hours in her car together. When you get a ride from someone, you feel like you have to talk to them. I like it, because you don’t have to really build a friendship? Normally, when you talk to someone at school, you know you’re both considering if it could become a real friendship or not. You’re trying to show your best side, just in case you both decided to try and make it work out. You’re always working towards a future, whoever you meet, even the teacher. When you’re hitchhiking however, you know you will never see the other person again, but still you spend several hours with that person. In what other situation would you talk to someone for hours straight, about easy subjects, but also about things like death, and still it’s just one time?

Well, in this case it probably won’t be for one time, as we’re gonna exchange our phone numbers.

After Elle’s third wine, she says: “I never thought being with someone your age could be this interesting. You’re an interesting guy, you know that? You have a special view on the world.”

I blush a little. I never know how to respond to compliments. Whenever someone says something nice about me, I suddenly can’t look that person in his or her eyes anymore.

“Thanks,” I say.

The bar we’re in, turns out to be a little hotel as well. So when we’re done with drinking and snacking a bit, as we didn’t eat yet, we decide to pay for separate rooms. I have to admit, after a few compliments from Elle, I feared she wanted to sleep in the same room. Even though you feel like you know someone after a day spending time with them, still you are conscious of their every move. We take our stuff out of her car and plan to have breakfast together tomorrow and then our paths will officially part. I like Elle, but I’m looking forward to tomorrow as well.

This is Lily City; the city I was supposed to be in three years ago to meet Yuri.