I somehow teleported to my dorm, packed a bag and then teleported to the bus stop because when I look down, I'm seated on a blue bench underneath an awning waiting for a Greyhound bus. I don't remember leaving Taylor, I don't remember if I saw Alyssa in our room, or if I walked here or took an Uber. All I can feel is the hurt in my chest. I can't even feel my cheeks to know if the tears are still falling. If they are, they aren't because of what my father and brother have done. I've come to expect that from them. They've always made me out to be a pawn in their games, forever their weakest link to be sacrificed at every advance.

I can't figure out what Taylor's end game is in all of this. The shame I feel because of him is unmatched to anything I've ever experienced. But aside from giving him my body, I gave him my soul too. Which is worse in my mind. I gave him every single ounce of myself and mistook his kindness, and gentle heart, his warm eyes and touches, his questions and answers as him relinquishing the same to me. I should have known. I did know. I knew that someone like him was only capable of hurting. He's confirmed that he's the type of guy to give his love long enough to take it away when it doesn't fit them any longer. Or in my case to pretend to give it, only when it serves them.

My eyes are swollen and hurt to open, so I've been resting my eyes for what feels like three hours. I look at the clock on the wall. The hands point to two twenty seven, meaning my eyes have been closed for approximately twenty minutes. I had to turn my phone off. It wouldn't stop vibrating with calls and texts from my father, Cal, and Taylor. I only read the ones from Taylor, but had to stop reading them after the last one.

Taylor Reed: Camryn it wasn't a lie. Just please let me come to you. Let me explain.

As if he deserves even a second of my time to explain to me how it wasn't a lie. As if there is any universe where taking money in exchange for me laying myself down bare for him in more ways than one doesn't equate to one big fucking lie wrapped in a money colored bow.

I turn my phone back on long enough to make one phone call. She answers on the first ring, and the tears immediately begin to flow again. Between Gabi shushing me, the entire story falls from my lips at a pace so fast, I'm not even sure she hears it. She does however confirm what I was hoping, that she's home and that she can pick me up from the bus stop in Nashville when I arrive eight hours from now.

After eight hours, one bus transfer, and a fitful sleep I'm awoken by the driver announcing his last stop of the evening. It's ten pm local time. Other passengers file their way off, but I wait until the very end. I don't want to move at a faster pace. I'm not even sure that I can at this point. A two tiered bus with stained felt seats that smells like a thrift store wasn't my ideal way to travel, but there were no direct flights from Columbus to Nashville until tomorrow. Miles and distance was the one thing I needed. I needed to create an actual divide between myself and that place. Giving no chance for anyone to come find me. I'm not ready to hear explanations. I have absolutely no energy to have that battle yet. I gather my duffle bag from under the bus and thank the driver before slinging the black strap over my shoulder and walking down the street.

The bus stop is in the middle of downtown Nashville, but not the party district that holds the strip of country music bars and restaurants that most people picture. Instead, it's in a poorly lit alley outside a cluster of skyscrapers all with various company logos in bright lights near the top.

Gabi is parked on the next street over. I spot her black Toyota Camry with its hazards flashing before I see her. When I spot her, I run to her and drop my bag at our feet. Her arms wrap around me, squeezing me tightly. I fall apart all over again.

She walked me from her car to her dorm with her arms still supporting me. Neither of us trusted me to remain tall scaffolding in place. We've barely tiptoed inside before I crash onto her bed. Moments later, I feel the weight of her body behind me. She wraps her arms around me, holding me the way Taylor had less than twenty four hours ago. His body was the one I assumed would be clutching me tonight. The tears never stopped, but they now gain power as they stream down my cheeks and onto her comforter. With her holding me I finally fall asleep.

🏈🏈🏈

The next morning, I wake to the sound of the door closing. I shoot upright when I notice unfamiliar surroundings. It takes me a few seconds to register Gabi's room, and her silhouette standing next to her desk. She greets me at the edge of her bed with a cup of coffee and a shot glass filled with a clear liquid.

A small smile tugs at my lips as I sit up a little straighter. I take the small glass first, tilting my head back to let the liquid burn my throat and then my stomach. I take a sip of the coffee as my chaser.

"Khalua would have been better, but I'll take it."

"Beggars can't be choosers right now." She shrugs.

"Any chance you have about three more liters of vodka? It might be the only thing that gets me through this." Gabi climbs into her bed next to me and forces me to sit up and face her. I narrow my eyes as she continues to watch me. Her features are sympathetic, instead worry flashes across her face.

"Do you really think alcohol is going to fix this? A liquid bandaid? I thought you were past that," she challenges.

"I see jokes aren't on the agenda for this morning. Shouldn't I be the one with the serious tone and getting pissed at you for making jokes?"

"I'm serious Camryn, something bad happened to you and your first reaction was to get on a bus and run away. You're better than that. You've worked too hard on your coping skills to just revert back."

My mouth goes dry from her words. Is Gabi really insinuating that my reaction to my father paying my boyfriend, or whatever Taylor is to me, is me reverting back into who I used to be? It's as if I showed up with fucking gashes down my arms, attempting to bleed out in front of her eyes.
"Well what the fuck do you propose I do Gabi? Stay at home and let my father and brother not fucking reach out to me? Not even attempt an apology? Let them somehow spin it back onto me so they can convince themselves that I am still the problem? Should I wait for them to not speak to me again until they have found another solution to their big problem? What will it be this time, a permanent residence in a god damn mental ward so they no longer have to worry about me? That way it can be paid professionals job to make sure I don't fucking kill myself... I can't believe this. I came here because I wanted you to be there for me. Because for once in my life I felt alone and didn't want to do anything other than be with a friend. But I guess those are in short supply for me." I begin to climb out of her bed in search of my things. I pull out my phone and begin to search for flights. Until I realize I have nowhere else to go.I don't belong anywhere else if I'm not at home or with Gabi.

"C, that's not what I'm saying and you know it. It's just, you worked so hard to not run away from problems anymore. You handle them headfirst and take control and not let them control you. You've made so much progress and yes, the situation is shitty, but you said it yourself last night. You expected this from them. You knew they would hurt you again. It was just a matter of when. Yes Taylor fucked up, he had no right to deceive you like that, but you're better than this. Stronger than this."

I didn't feel Gabi come up behind me, but once again her arms cocoon around me, holding me in place. She quietly helps me put my things back down and guides me back to her bed. We sit knee to knee, eye to eye, heart to heart. The same way we have so many times before.

There is nothing in the air except an exchange of breaths in and out. Neither of us says anything for a while. Gabi breaks first, but only to announce that she has to go to practice and for me to stay put. As if I had anywhere else to go. I nod in agreement and within minutes she's changed and out the door.

I relax back onto her bed and close my eyes. I try to occupy my mind, to think about anything other than the series of unfortunate events that have led me here, cuddling Gabi's stuffed monkey. Mr. Monkey's once blue fur is more of a gray-ish and a prominent hole is present above his right eye. Mr. Monkey and I have both seen better days.

I remember when Gabi got Mr. Monkey, it was the same time I got my stuffed frog. We were living in Florida at the time. The Brown's had come to visit, but our moms left to take a trip just the two of them. Our stuffies were a souvenir brought back from whatever tropical destination they had spent the week at. Us kids had spent a fair amount of time with our dad's that week, but were practically left to do whatever we wanted. I specifically remember eating pancakes for dinner every single night because it's all we knew how to make. If anything, it just proved how lost everyone was without the moms there to guide the ship.

We were at our house when they finally returned tanned and relaxed. I ran to my mom and threw my arms around her neck as she crouched down to my level. She confessed her love for me and how much she missed me. A pure love, that is what I could always expect from my mom. There was never any doubt or illusions leading me to believe otherwise. The kind of love I assumed was only reserved for mother's and children.

My mind lingers from the memory like a drop in a puddle, it blurs the image until Taylor's face fills my mind. I can see him sitting in Harry's the night after the ridiculous party Alyssa dragged me to. It's a memory I have exhausted in my mind repeatedly. The way his eyes looked directly into mine is burned into my mind like a carving in stone. He was unintimidated at the intimacy of the gesture. Nothing but pure curiosity specked in his irises. It became a fixture in our routine. All Taylor had to do was flash that temptation at me and the information would tumble out. I became a kid unable to keep a secret and Taylor was a willing accomplice. He collected my information and kept it for himself, but not without sharing his truth's with me in return. Or at least what I thought to be true.

When he finally kissed me back, our first kiss, the idea of pure love skimmed the surface of my mind just for a moment. The idea that after exposing all of my wounds, Taylor didn't turn away in disgust, instead he pushed forward and showed me his in return. I never imagined that our first night together would also be our last. When I felt the beat of his heart register in my body like a whisper, telling me just what I did to him, it never occurred to me that it might as well have been telling me goodbye in the same beat. I'm not too naive to think that Taylor and I would be together forever. So many things could have changed in our futures. But I wanted to try. I never thought we would end like this, before it could even really begin.

🏈🏈🏈

"Glad to see you haven't moved. Did you get some rest?" Gabi asks, waking me from my nap. She's freshly showered and has her backpack strapped to her back. I suddenly feel like a pile of garbage. I climb out of her bed and suggest we grab lunch. Fresh air would be good for me.

Gabi walks me to a local diner, her version of Harry's. As we push through the door a familiar sounding bell rings from somewhere above it, but the similarities end there. Harry's is significantly older with its tattered booths and original black and white tile flooring. This place is outfitted with modern wood laminate floors, black booths, and stainless steel rectangular hightops—the extra long type that is shared by several other parties, only leaving about an inch of privacy between parties.

We settle for a hightop anyway. We make it about ten minutes into a normal routine of ordering and taking the first few sips of our drinks without really saying anything at all. Gabi looks at me, her lips tight before she says, "I think you should go home. I think you should go deal with this. I'm glad to see you, but you can't run Camryn."

"Are you glad to see me? Because this is now the second or third time you're practically kicked me to the curb. Is this you wining and dining me before you fuck me and send me packing? What's next? Personally ordering the Uber and buying the plane ticket?"

Gabi rolls her eyes and exhales deeply.

"What about next fall? Am I even still allowed to share a room with you or do I have to live a standard hundred and fifty feet away from you when you file a restraining order? Am I suffocating you from four hundred miles away?" I want to keep going, but one thing I learned in therapy about confrontation is to allow others to speak so all feelings are open and valid.

"I mean, you don't have to transfer here ya know, C." Gabi says

I take back my previous statement because her feelings are not valid. I suddenly feel as if I am inside of a dream. The almost lucid type, where you know it's a dream except you can't control anything. Because if this was a lucid dream, my best friend would be telling me she booked our one way tickets and already has our apartment picked out.

"What do you mean?" I ask. I'm pissed that I couldn't come up with anything else, but I'm also too stunned to be witty.

"I know that your plan has been to stay there for a year and then come join me, but there are so many other places you could go... If you want, I mean. You aren't bound to Vandy."

"I'm not bound to Vandy?" I say throwing her stupid Gabi-ism back at her in a mocking tone. "Or I'm not bound to you?"

"That's not what I meant Camryn and you know it."

"Then please, inform me of what you really meant."

"I just—you—"

"Spit it out, seriously I can't wait."

"I feel like you have just had this plan in your head for the last year and a half and that when you finish it, your life will be magically better. Do you even like Vanderbilt, Camryn? I mean you didn't even leave my room today. If you were so excited to come here, the you that I know would have been out exploring, no matter the circumstance. You would have had your camera in hand taking a million pictures and making me look through all of them the second I walked back through my door. Or are you coming here just for me? You've spent weeks barely talking to me and when you do it's all about the new friends you've made and the things you've been doing with them—and God C, I love that for you. I love that you finally have something that is just yours... Of course I want to be with you, but I don't want to just be another thing that you feel like you are tied to. I feel like we both have new lives now. You sound happy."

I don't respond, instead I fix my gaze on the hole in my straw. I like the way I can't see it, but I know it eventually ends. Although it's a dark tunnel, light could shine through the other end. I thought I was in a dark tunnel the last few years. Coming here, to Vanderbilt, to be with Gabi was supposed to be the light at the end of my tunnel. I couldn't see it, but having the plan, knowing it was waiting for me made me feel in control. I truly believed that it was what I wanted. I didn't know I had anything left, but frustration from her words builds in my chest until the pressure forces my eyes to sting with tears again.

I think I was afraid her next words would be something about how I don't fit into her life anymore. The same thing I have felt towards my dad and brother, and now Taylor. Like everyone around me is this puzzle missing a piece, but yet I somehow still don't fit.

What I can't decipher is the difference between the fact that I hate what she's saying and the conviction with which it comes from her mouth. She's so sure. As if this isn't the first time the thought has crossed her mind. I can't ignore it though, this feeling building in my stomach. I agree with her.

I hate Nashville. I hate the people and how crowded it is. I hated the bus system getting here, and that everywhere you look there is nothing but concrete. I only toured Vanderbilt because Gabi did and it meant getting away from Columbus for a weekend without my family. In the vision in my head, the one I created at the end of the tunnel, I just assumed we would find a new balance. We would adjust together and I would have Gabi to help me through. That's how it's always been. Through middle school and high school and every single change along the way Gabi has been the one thing that has remained the same. Even when I didn't make sense among her other friends, she still made me feel like I did.

She was there for me through the two most horrible times in my life, when my mom died and everything that happened after. She was the only one who visited me in inpatient treatment, skipping school to do so and bring me McDonalds. She dropped what she was doing to help me acclimate and find a new normal when I got released. She's been here every step of the way to remind me that I was worthy of living this life. This life was chosen for you Camryn, you have to choose to live it. Words that were first shared by my therapist, but quickly became a mantra between Gabi and I when I shared them with her. Everytime I wanted to stop, wanted to give up and throw away all of my progress, he was there to remind me to keep pushing.

But if I don't follow her here, where does she expect me to go? As if the ability to read my mind, to understand the gears turning but the words not yet able to be formed into a coherent sentence she finishes the process for me.

"I've been your safety net for six years now, and I'm damn proud to be. You are the single most strongest person I know given the life you have been, but it could be worse C. Your life could be alot worse and you have put in the work to make it a life you want to live... you." Gabi pauses and forces me to look at her. I do hesitantly, still not feeling brave enough to hear her words, or accept them. To believe that everything she is saying might be true. When I finally meet her eyes she continues, "Not me, not your dad, not anyone. I think it's time you make decisions for yourself. Decide what path continues to make it a life you want to live. Not one where you make the safe choice. You needed that for a while, but not now. Now it's time for you to move on, to do whatever the hell you want to that will put a smile on your face and make you excited to wake up every single day."

Gabi reaches her hand between us on the table. I take it immediately, needing to feel her squeeze it, a solidifying notion to the words she has just spoken. I don't speak, still unable to because of the tears. But I squeeze back, letting her know that I love her. And that she's right. I can't continue to live my life with a blanket wrapped around me to hide who I am and what I want just because I've had a more difficult time than most. This multiyear pity party for one has to come to an end. I've worked so hard to reinvent myself through treatment and therapy to find coping skills and practices that work for me. I face everyday with a strong will to live knowing that I hold a power over myself that no one else can. And I've been happy. I've refound old things that bring me pleasure like photography, but I've also found new things and people too.