Walkabout

Pat and I were at the pool Saturday. I took a banana, some strawberries, Marie Claire magazine with Keira Knightly on the cover; slathered myself up in the sun. When you’re rich and make your own schedule, you can disappear in Europe for months at a time. That’s what I learned about Keira Knightly – and that I’m insanely jealous some people have freedom like that. Yes, she’s had to give up lots of other freedoms (like privacy) to accomplish such things, but stop ruining my jealous fantasies about how her life is better than mine…

“My boyfriend is a musician,” she said, “so there’s no standing still, but the thing about a walkabout is you can’t tell anyone about it or they’ll come looking. So, it will be like that [snaps her fingers], and I’ll be gone”.

I read the quote to Pat as I broke off a chunk of banana, squeezing it in my fingers.
“Do it,” he said. “I mean don’t go to Europe, but after work some Friday just don’t come home for the weekend. Don’t tell me about. Just go. Please text me maybe so I know you’re not in rapeville, but you don’t even have to say where you’re going just say ‘walkabout’ and I’ll know.”

Hasn’t this been just what I’ve wanted lately? To disappear and not tell anyone and take some spiritual journey and right myself? Cut off communication, fucking Facebook, email and just go?
So it will be like that [snaps my fingers], and I’ll be gone.

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