“I’m outta here.”

And that’s what I would do.  When I was out with my friends at some party, bar, restaurant… anywhere. When I heard the voice in my head saying I’m outta here, I was out.  And I’m not one of the “oh goodbye see you soon,” or, “good seeing you,”  blah, blah.

“Just tell us next time you bolt. I worry.”  My best friend was serious.

“Don’t worry.  I’m sorry. Sometimes I get this I gotta go hitting my mind to the point where I just have to bolt.”

“That’s fine.  Just text me so I know you’re okay.”

I never gave much thought into how hard it must be for my closest friends to deal with my issues.

I still bolt, mostly, but give a quick bye.

My friends get it.

Hitchhiker photo available from Shutterstock

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    Last reviewed: 20 Aug 2012