🇬🇧 In English
The Day I Thought About Leaving
Silver Bloggers Chronicles Prompt #44
Source Pixabay
Did you ever try to run away from home? What made you want to leave? What did you pack to bring and how far did you go?
When I think about this question, I don’t remember a dramatic escape or a long journey. What I remember is something much smaller, but perhaps more honest.
A moment when, as a child, I truly believed I could leave everything behind.
I must have been around ten years old. It had been one of those days where nothing seems to go right. A misunderstanding at home, a few words said with more emotion than intention, and that overwhelming feeling — so familiar in childhood — that no one understands you.
At that age, feelings can become very large, very quickly.
I remember going to my room and deciding, with complete seriousness, that I was going to leave.
I took a small bag. I don’t even remember what I put inside exactly, but I know it wasn’t much. Probably something to eat, maybe a book — even then, I couldn’t imagine leaving without one — and a few things that, in my mind, felt essential.
Looking back, it wasn’t preparation. It was emotion trying to take shape.
I walked out of the house quietly, convinced that I was beginning something important.
But I didn’t go far.
Just a few meters away, maybe to the corner of the street. I stopped there, suddenly aware of something I hadn’t considered before: the world was much bigger than my decision.
And I was not as ready as I thought.
There was no fear exactly, but there was a realization. A pause. The kind that changes everything without making noise.
So I turned around.
Not defeated, but different.
When I came back, nothing had really changed outside. The house was the same, the day continued as always. But something inside me had shifted.
I had understood, in a very simple way, that leaving is not always about distance.
Sometimes it is just a feeling we need to go through.
I never tried to run away again.
But I have often remembered that moment.
Because it reminds me of how intense childhood can be, and how those small, almost invisible experiences help shape who we become.
Thank you for reading.
See you in the words.
The images are from Pixabay and the English translation was done with DeepL Translate.
Thanks to 
🇪🇦 En Español
El dĂa en que pensĂ© en irme
Silver Bloggers Chronicles Prompt #44
Fuente Pixabay
¿Alguna vez intentaste huir de casa? ¿Qué te hizo querer irte? ¿Qué empacaste y hasta dónde llegaste?
Cuando pienso en esta pregunta, no recuerdo una gran huida ni un viaje largo. Lo que recuerdo es algo mucho más pequeño, pero quizás más sincero.
Un momento en el que, siendo niña, realmente creĂ que podĂa dejarlo todo atrás.
DebĂa tener unos diez años. HabĂa sido uno de esos dĂas en los que nada parece salir bien. Un malentendido en casa, algunas palabras dichas con más emociĂłn que intenciĂłn, y esa sensaciĂłn —tan propia de la infancia— de que nadie te entiende.
A esa edad, los sentimientos pueden volverse muy grandes en muy poco tiempo.
Recuerdo ir a mi cuarto y decidir, con total seriedad, que me iba a ir.
TomĂ© una pequeña bolsa. No recuerdo exactamente quĂ© puse dentro, pero sĂ© que no fue mucho. Quizás algo de comida, tal vez un libro —porque incluso entonces no podĂa imaginar irme sin uno— y algunas cosas que, en mi mente, parecĂan esenciales.
Visto ahora, no era preparaciĂłn. Era emociĂłn intentando tomar forma.
SalĂ de la casa en silencio, convencida de que estaba comenzando algo importante.
Pero no llegué lejos.
Solo unos metros, tal vez hasta la esquina de la calle. Me detuve allĂ, consciente de pronto de algo que no habĂa considerado antes: el mundo era mucho más grande que mi decisiĂłn.
Y yo no estaba tan preparada como pensaba.
No era exactamente miedo, era una especie de comprensiĂłn. Una pausa. De esas que cambian algo sin hacer ruido.
Asà que regresé.
No derrotada, sino distinta.
Cuando volvĂ, nada habĂa cambiado realmente afuera. La casa era la misma, el dĂa continuaba igual. Pero dentro de mĂ algo se habĂa movido.
HabĂa entendido, de una forma muy simple, que irse no siempre tiene que ver con la distancia.
A veces es solo una emociĂłn que necesitamos atravesar.
Nunca volvĂ a intentar irme.
Pero muchas veces he recordado ese momento.
Porque me recuerda lo intensa que puede ser la infancia, y cómo esas pequeñas experiencias, casi invisibles, ayudan a formar lo que somos.
Gracias por leerme.
Nos encontramos en las palabras.
Las imagenes son de pixabay y la traducciĂłn al ingles fue hecha en DeepL Translate.