The Journal of Dave Thorne - Entry #1
Journal Entry #1:
Sorry, I meant to start this earlier, but I got carried away in the whole “escape” process, that I didn’t remember to until now. Before I get any further, allow me to introduce myself and what I’m doing. My name is Dave Thorne, I’m twenty six years old and my girlfriend of seven years broke up with me. Sarah Zegarelli was my world, until my world was shattered like glass in my face. Seven years and all I have to show for it is a hard drive that used to be full of pictures of us. I wiped it. I also deleted my Facebook, usual email address, I terminated my cell phone contract and gave the sterilized smartphone to a kid who taught me how to use an encrypted email address. I cleaned out my bank account, signed away my lease on my apartment, quit my job, and the rest of my earthly belongings I deemed worth keeping I put into storage under a false name and paid the guy who worked there thirty six months’ rent in advance. Cash payment. If I come back early (if I come back at all), he can keep the extra money as a tip for not telling anybody what I’m doing, and if I don’t come back, then he gets everything I locked away.
I’ve decided I’m going to go off the grid for a while, until I’m over Sarah. The sheer thought of her brings an uneasiness to me that I have never known before, beginning deep in my stomach and making me physically ill. Now, I know this seems immature, but I can honestly say it’s the only thing I can think to do in order to get over her. I may be naïve, but I truly feel like I was in love with her, which is among the few things I can say I regret about knowing her. We started dating in college, when I was still sure that I didn’t want to get tied down to some girl for years. When I was sure that I wanted to go out and see the world, but I wound up in a good relationship. A great relationship. The moment I realized how serious we got, I almost freaked out and ended it there, but I didn’t, and we stayed together for the next five years. I feel like my biggest mistake was never proposing to her. I think that’s what she really wanted, but I found myself in no shape to get married. I feel like marrying her would have just caused a lot of problems that would have shaken up our relationship and derailed it. But the last three months or so of our relationship, I could tell that it was coming down to the wire; she was tired of being in a relationship like that and I didn’t want to hurt her, but I also didn’t want to lose her, so I tried to play like I was oblivious: the worst mistake I have ever made. She knew I knew and the fact that I wouldn’t make the move made her feel like I stopped caring about her. Then one afternoon, she sits me down, looks me in the eyes and basically says “Either marry me or get out.” I freaked out, started crying, pleaded with her not to put this ultimatum on me. I told her over and over again I wasn’t ready, that we weren’t ready, but she wouldn’t have it. She said she was tired of watching all her friends getting married to guys after mere months and the fact that we’d been together since we were teenagers and not progressed made her feel like shit. She felt like I was basically saying “I love hanging out and having sex with you, but I don’t really want to validate your feelings” by not marrying her or even entertaining the thought of marrying her. The fact of the matter is is that I’m twenty six years old and the thought of truly and completely devoting every aspect of my life to somebody, albeit I care about them from the bottom of my heart, scares me more than anything else in the world. I know we’d been dating for ever, but there are protocols in dating that allow for more space and more freedom than a marriage. Who knows, maybe I’ll come back and we’ll meet again, but for now, I’m dropping off the radar for a while.
I’ve already made connections with all my old friends and friends’ relatives overseas. That kid I gave my old phone to, her name is Gauri, she’s my old friend Dhaval’s little sister. Amazing with technology, she taught me how to encrypt my location when signing onto a website and all kinds of different things to conceal who I am. She just graduated high school. She’s a genius, just like her older brother. I’ve already made contact with their family in India; If I’m ever there, I’ve got a place to stay. With Gauri’s help, I created a new email address from some Brazilian server, and I’m using it to get in touch with my contacts overseas. I’ve already told my friends in Belfast, London, Bavaria and Russia that I’m heading to Europe soon. My first stop will be in Beflast, Northern Ireland. I’ll probably only be there a few days, just long enough to scrape together a few pounds so I can buy a rail pass in London. I’ve also alerted all my friends or friends’ relatives in Pakistan, Vietnam, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, and Argentina. My real goal is to go to Hong Kong. That’s where my grandfather, Captain Charles Thorne of the British Royal Navy spent a lot of his career before settling down in the United States some time in the late 1940s. I’m sad to say it, but my branch of the family has become estranged from any family we may still have in the old British Realm aside from in England itself. But I’m definitely going to look into it. Anything to take my mind off of Sarah.
Currently, I am on a bus bound for New York. Once there I’ll take a flight to Dublin, and then a connecting flight into Belfast. After a lot of deliberation, I decided I will travel using my legal U.S. Passport so if anybody truly needs to find me, they can. But otherwise, I don’t think anybody will really be looking for me. My parents understand and respect what I’m doing, which is weird to me because they’ve never understood or respected my oddness in the past. I’ve got about six thousand in cash on me, concealed in a compartment in my suitcase. What I’ve brought with me is what I could fit into a suitcase, my trusty old backpack I’ve had since the sixth grade and of course my guitar.
The plan here is simple: travel and experience the world and if I feel up to it, maybe return back to the normal life. I’m documenting it mainly so I don’t forget what I’ve done, but whoever reads this, be it friends and relatives upon my arrival back home or whoever recovers my dead body and finds this journal among its effects, I hope that you can say that I am not completely unfounded in my idea. The next time I write in this thing, I’ll be transatlantic.