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A Piece of Nonfiction: Boat Trip

By Billy | August 31, 2008

So I’ve been guided by my spirits that it’s okay for me to release some of the weight I’ve been carrying around for a while in a public setting.  I write on Rumbelow constantly about how happiness is right there in front of you and all you need to do is grasp it, but I fail to do so for myself in some of the more vital areas of my own life.  The second half of the night I am portraying below will be worked into the Story of Brahman, since Mr. Trunkenkuss is going to hitchhike his way to wherever he’s trying to go, or from whatever he’s trying to escape.  Anyway.  Here it is.  I hope the enjoyment you receive from this is inversely proportional to that with which I experienced it:

Boat Trip

Why does she always hit me? She practically begs me to spend every waking minute with her, then she spends the vast majority of that time being angry with and abusive towards me. This was the last straw. The moment she pulled out the fists, I decided to stand up for myself. This time is the last time it will happen.

I thought this trip would be in the best interest for all of us. She wants to spend time with me; I want to make her happy. My family and I both want this trip to happen and I really thought it would be a good opportunity to get her to start actually liking and appreciating my family.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

I am now in god-knows-where, VA, moving west. Barefoot and dirty, I followed the sunset till she faded. Now I follow the moon. Why am I doing this? I’ve answered that question a million different ways in these past 3 hours. I’m walking away because I can’t make anyone happy back there; I’m useless. I’m walking to distract myself from the vicious and dangerous thoughts that plague me aboard my grandparent’s boat. I’m walking to ignore the problems to which I know all of the solutions. I’m walking away from my life, when part of me knows that all I need to do is walk out of hers.

The universe was kind enough to place some rope on the side of the road for me. How nice. This might come in handy if I need to pitch a tent or stow some food. I’ll keep this in case anything needs to be strung up, hung up, or hanged.

What was this fight about, anyway? God. I can’t even remember. It’s never anything substantial. I probably spent too much time talking to my dad and ignoring her. This whole trip has been one problem for her after another. My grumpy grandfather, debasing father, smelly dog, the cramped boat… I should have known that these ingredients, whether real or imagined, would be a deadly combination. It seems that by the time we had settled in at the marina and she was able to get out of the boat, the levee was already broken.

I know she had problems feeling liked and I really hate to blame the victim here, but the slapping and the punishments are not really winning her any points. She’s finally pushed me over the edge: I’m leaving everything, not looking back. She estranges me from my family and friends so much that vacations and get-togethers are entirely non-beneficial, forced, and phony, and then she goes and demolishes all reasons for me to stick with her. I thought I could stay with her until she was more independent, more self confident; a happier person. I thought the abuse was part of my trials in this cause. I thought it would be worth it.

No. She has been quite literally beating it into me that she doesn’t want me around. No wonder she is so alone. No wonder people made fun of her for her entire life. No wonder she has no one else but me… No wonder she is so fucking ridiculous at dealing with her problems. Shit. This is a loop that’s not going to end with more people doing the same things to her. This is where I am supposed to be the better person and do the right thing. This is where I choose to leave my life on hold. This is where I swallow my self respect and dignity for the good of someone who doesn’t give a damn about me. This is when I should start mentally preparing myself for the shame filled crawl-back-and-apologize bit.

This is when I turn around and hold my thumb up. This is just one of countless mistakes of its kind.

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