causers of this | tyler, the creator [+18] | semi-hiatus (???)

run

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Not in my case. My absence was cathartic.

A couple of months ago I wanted to be free from anything that reminded me of him, even in the slightest, so at the first opportunity I packed all my shit up and left. He always said I was good at running away from my problems.

And he was always good at drinking his.

Without him around making me feel responsible for all the residual emotional baggage he'd been carrying lately I felt light enough to touch my dreams again. At the end of it all I hated the way everything I did in some way represented him, included him, comforted him, pleasured him, angered him. Him, him, him. I needed to get away. The more I did without him, the more I felt reintroduced to me.

Dyed my hair dark just because. Hung out with old friends he was never too fond of. Started working out again. Made some major moves with my business. Left California behind, threw myself into my work. Crossed another tax bracket.

I'm not proud of the act itself, though. I'm proud of my progress. But running was never my intention.

Sometimes it felt like progress just for the sake of progress. As much as it helped my spirit... emotionally, it hurt. Running away from him and those memories turned me away from some of the people that loved me most. I felt isolated. Only one relationship was to go up in flames, but all of them seemed like they would torch into ashes right in front of my eyes and all the good things that were happening were pointless without somebody to share them with.

The thought of coming back home made me anxious, inner me scared at the thought of unintentionally opening up a three month old wound that was just barely closed to begin with.

I didn't want to end up not in control of my emotions again. Fleeing again.

My apartment had a stale smell, but everything was exactly in the way I left it. After setting my bags down and locking the door, I made it a point to open a couple windows to let some new air in.

Instincts of being back in a familiar place started to kick in and so did my old habits.

I sat my phone on the end table by the door along with my tartan backpack. I checked the fridge, made a note to go grocery shopping on the dry erase board next to it. I shuffled my suitcase into the hallway so it was out of sight, forcing me to focus on other things that needed to be done to make my space mine again. Before I knew it, my MacBook was open on the coffee table and after a shower I ended up curled into my favorite spot in the blue velvet couch nestled in the corner of my universe, reconnecting to the world.

I didn't forget how to be comfortable in my own space, which I was worried about.

I checked a couple emails. For some reason, I made the subconscious decision to avoid social media for the past few months but something led me to check my Twitter, which, until that moment, I hadn't been on in a while...

My mentions were a mess. I frowned.

Months of nonsense I missed, and with good reason.

Social media had turned into one of those sore spots that was still healing. It was a good way to share things. Thoughts, moments, photos, ideas.... but all of those things were attached to memories I wanted to get away from. All good things can be bad with overuse, or over-sharing, and after breaking up with Frank it was just another way to tie me to him. People made it a point to dig up old tweets, screenshots of our lives together living on forever on gossip blogs. I got tired of defending my character and my integrity. I at some point I just deleted the fucking app and started living in real life.