alone with thoughts in a cafe

Tonight I find myself sitting in a bustling cafe with thoughts dancing wildly in my head. I rarely go to cafes alone so it's taking some time to settle down and hone my thoughts.
A small explosion of laughter erupts from the static sound of idle chatter. What are they laughing about? What are all these people talking about? Why did I come here? I suppose I wanted to get some reading done and work on some writing but I can't seem to reboot and focus.
Thoughts of moving to the Seattle area have been prevalent lately. Since I can remember I've always had an inane desire to move to that area. As a young boy I recall telling mom of this wish. What triggered this itch I do not know.
Would I really be able to make such a dramatic move?

bloomington, indiana > seattle, washington = 2,385 miles over 1 day and 15 hours
the path >> indiana > illinois > wisconsin > minnesota > south dakota > wyoming > montana > idaho > washington


I suppose this idea sparks a small flame of hope in my heart. Perhaps I'll find all the missing keys to all those locked doors...Perhaps I'll finally find the yellowed map to that distant buried treasure - and I'll uncover it and it will be mine and it will be beautiful. But why do I feel like this desire is driven by the need to flee, escape, run away? What am I running away from? Why does all this running seem like a disguised means to continue pushing away those that care about me?
I wanted to join the Army but due to a permanent kidney condition I was unable. I wanted an experience that would "make me a man." I'm still looking for that experience. A trial that will kill a part of my being so that another nucleus may sprout, grow, expand, live. I want to jump out of a flying saucer, spring golden wings of cotton, float down to this planet and feel more alive because of it. Feel more alive because I survived. Feel more alive because I accomplished something I once thought to be impossible. Feel more alive because I'm weary of this red=stop - green=go - safety net - child proof lid - airbag infused - existence.
But safe is good. Safety is clean. Safety is a white, sterilized operating room (the smell of hospitals) where no one ever dies. Perhaps safety is an illusion.

safe-ty, n. Freedom from danger, risk, or injury.

Freedom? True freedom cannot be appreciated by he who has no concept of confinement. After reading safety's definition repeatedly, the concept seems to be a false bill of goods, yet I define my life by this crooked premise.
I don't know what I'll do, if anything.
Safety is a motherly figure with long arms extended like power lines. Her warm, soft flesh reaches as far as the eye can see, tender and waiting, wanting to cradle this scared little boy into a peaceful oblivion.
That's hard to resist, my friends.

Guess I should refill this cup with some hot coffee...

mc