But how do I explain myself to my friends? I cannot think of a scenario where I do not honestly tell them that I leave my hometown because I cannot live with him anymore. I have to be honest. They will understand. They've seen my eye covered in bruises when I went to that party last year in Jakarta.
No no no. Running to a town where I meet my friends will make it easy for him to be able to track me down. I might get caught fast.
Another option is to run away to my family's house in the same town. I can beg them to keep my hideout a secret. And even when he finds out, my family will protect me. But I actually do not want my family to know. I just want to run far, far away where no one knows me. Maybe I should drive my car to a small town nearby. I'll research tomorrow. The small town will be a new page of my life.
That sounds great.
Another problem is what I will bring with me. The car is important. I'll make spare keys tomorrow, secretly. And my ATM. Fortunately I have saved a lot of money in my own bank account. That should cover my life for a couple of months. I'll live frugally. And clothes. I'll pack a few important clothes and keep the bag behind the cupboard, where I can take it anytime I need it.
Words from him I can stand. I no longer listen to all his insults, although I cannot stop wondering what I've done to deserve such harsh words. They say that it's funny how people hurt their closest people. Such is not my case. We are not close. I do not know him anymore. Words I can ignore, but those slaps, hits, blows cannot be ignored. The sting stays for days.
So the next time he punches me, I know what to do. I'll pretend to hide in the shower room like usual, but when he leaves home, I'll grab my things and run away.
Shoot. What about my daughter?
I can come get her some time later. No problem. The most important thing is saving my life first. My soul. My laughter.
I'll definitely do this plan. I've been polishing this plan for so many years. Each year I become more confident. Each year my plan becomes better. But maybe not this year. I have to gather my courage, don't I?
Maybe next year. Sixty two years old is not too old to start a new life, right?
Or maybe some next years. I still need to work on my plan. It still needs more details. Yeah, maybe some next years. Maybe.
The acne prone wife is trying fiction thanks to Pauline writing about that some happy old wife :D So what do you think? If I ever work on this draft again, I think I'll put in lots and lots of minor details to make the plan looks more vivid. Anyway, enough trying fiction for now.. Very tiring.