It’s Monday afternoon and I came back a day ago from my grandmother’s house, which is a long, long way from my own. But why would I have gone to my grandmother’s house in the first place? Ah. Well, that’s a long story, and one you may or may not wish to hear. But the fact that I did, and the fact that I was away from home for two days, means that (for today at least) I am getting my own way. Which is what every teenager wants.
For a start, I am no longer being threatened with having bottles made of glass smashed over my head. This can only be a good thing, because being safe from serious injury and potential death is something everyone should want, not just teenage runaways. Time will tell whether I am safe from serious injury and potential death in the long run, but in case I am not, I can always run away again. Or, better yet, get my parents to separate and never have to see my mother again! As you can see, the possibilities are boundless.
Secondly, my mother is not actually drunk. This is also a good thing, as I am only at risk of injury or death when she is. On the other hand, I know that she spends all her time sober thinking, “God, I wish I wasn’t sober,” so this may not mean very much. I also know I saw a rather large cask of wine sitting around in the kitchen, so clearly my mother’s commitment to sobriety is still somewhat lacking. Nonetheless, she is not drunk.
Lastly, and less significantly than the prior two points, I am no longer being verbally abused or referred to as a “cripple I should have had aborted”. Naturally, saying these things is bad, but I stopped caring what she thought and said a long time ago. The only people whose opinions I care about are those who have my respect, and I have no respect for the moron masquerading as my mother. No number of half-hearted apologies and insincere promises will alter this state of affairs. Thus, I don’t really care which insults my mother chooses to level at me, and the absence of them — while a good sign — is not my main concern. I’d much rather keep out of the emergency ward.
So why be a teenage runaway? One should be a teenage runaway for the same reasons one should start a guerrilla movement — when ignored, downtrodden and deemed unimportant, it is a way to draw attention to oneself and earn a seat at the negotiating table. You can extract promises — however insincere these promises might be — and then preserve the moral high ground as you criticise failure to meet these promises. If you never extract a promise in the first place, what right have you to expect that this promise be met?
That said, however, I do not advise becoming a teenage runaway (nor starting a guerrilla movement) if you truly have nothing to complain about. Causing a fuss about nothing is an excellent way to lose the moral high ground before you even begin, which is not the idea of this exercise. However, if you have — as I believed I had — some excellent motivations to take drastic action, then go ahead and run away from home. What could possibly go wrong?