the rest of the story

So today I thought I would finish the extremely short version of who I am.  I left off with epiphany that drinking coffee at me favorite coffee shop in 5 points and keeping my nose in a book would not provide for my son.  Well this stunning realization also made me aware of how selfish I was.  I am not speaking of grown people that throw temper tantrums type of selfish.  No I am speaking of the I am young care free, I am the center of my own universe, I think some what healthy kind of selfish.  All that mattered was me.  Some where in the back of mind I knew I could run off to France and live like some of the writers I had put on a pedestal.  If I wanted to drink like a Russian novelist while reading Dostoevsky for class no big deal( as an aside I would have been doing this drinking at home and not out putting any one in danger.)  I could have said screw this town and accepted some very amazing offers to great colleges, but I did not do any of these things for one reason or another.  A lot of it is a not a brave person.  I do not have the proverbial  balls to drop everything familiar and known to go chase after what was sure to be a failure.  I have never been able to throw everything away and start over.  In all honesty though I have never tried.  The thought of being some place any place where no one knows me or anybody I know while in some respects is an exciting and satisfying fantasy, it also causes me a great deal of anxiety.  It seem that the whole of my life has been lived in a shadow of sorts.  I was always somebody's daughter or little sister, some one's step sister, or some one girlfriend.  Having almost never been introduced to any one as just me, it has mostly been this me so and so fill in the blank with the appropriate title.