Hide

It's easy to seek refuge in the corner, and that's why you do it.

You do the easy simple things, because you can't stand it being any harder than necessary. It's too much stress and pain and misery, so you avoid it. It's much easier to hide from the problem than face it.

And how can anyone expect you to face the problem when you don't even know what it is?

That's a main part of the conundrum--you don't know what you're dealing with. The problem is like an unseen predator, lying in wake, waiting for just the moment when it can strike you. You evade it, you flee, but you can only run for so long before you're consumed by exhaustion.

It's an odd problem, really, the exact opposite of the problem you had months ago.

But months ago you weren't the person you are now; you've changed so much in the past eight months it's not even funny.

Eight months. Eight months of your life are sunk into this--but now you're not so sure about it. It's constantly shifting, ever-changing, and you panic, because while it's been steady enough you're afraid it's going to capsize any minute now.

Back then you sought your refuge online, in a hidden away world you were sure, so absolutely sure, no one would ever notice. And you were convinced that it wouldn't matter and you could walk away at the end. Real life, actual life, was boring, monotonous, and you felt neglected by those you knew. So you became friends with people hundreds of miles away, oceans away, in different towns, states, cities, continents, even. You formed your niche with them and made yourself an irreplaceable part of a group, a group you were sure would never changed.

Only, then it did.

Everything was flipped over and spun around and completely morphed until it was something brand new, and only a few of you bothered to cling to the remains of that once-incredible group you loved so much, wished to spend every minute with. Now reality had sunk in and it'd become obvious that even these things were subject to change. Nothing settled down and seemed solid anymore, and everything was constantly changing. But you ignored this and clung to the past, but you changed. And there was no more believing that anything is forever. Because it isn't.

Now you're in the present and it's scary--it's scary because you find yourself pulling away, needing them less and less. You've become used to having to be separated, and it sucks, but you're used to it. And while you're apart everything fades. That's what frightens you the most, because you loved these mysterious people you've never met, and why do you think of loved in the past tense? Don't you still love them? When did you stop loving them? You love them, don't you?

Do you?

You're sure you love certain ones among them--haven't you said it so many times; aren't you sure of it?--but maybe that's not enough. Everything you know in real life just tears you from them and them from you. And you wonder--you do it sadly and with remorse and a lot of you is wishing it's not true, but you wonder--if maybe, just maybe, the world is prying you from them.

And you don't want that.

But at the same time you're bouncing between two extremes and need a middle ground. Because now you find yourself happy when you're at school, laughing with your friends--and God, you laugh so much more with them now than last year. You don't question your relationships with them anymore, because you love them, and you have a past with them. With some it's colorful and long and complicated, and with others it's short and simple, but you love them nonetheless and you've never questioned that. They're your friends, and they're some of the best things you have left in the world.

And yet, they can't be there for you all the time, and those strangers you know everything and nothing about are your friends too. Those you laugh and joke with just don't have the time for you, because they have places to be all the time and it's a twenty-minute drive to where they live, with no public transport. You love the others, but everything with them is so complicated. Around them you're this vulnerable person who brushes everything off and struggles just to hold yourself together, and you haven't felt like that around those you see every day in a long time.

You can't leave them--scratch that. You could leave them. Just not certain people. Because you love certain people, and you miss them when you don't see them for a while, and you know the depth of your relationship because they don't whine about not being close to you. The list of those you love has four people, four, just like it did earlier this year, even though so much has changed. You don't have the ability to care so much anymore, but you cling to the remnants, you cling to those four people, because you love them and they're straight with you. There's no lying and conniving and backwards messed up crap. It's normal, and it's comfortable, and it's natural. Because you belong.

But you don't know how to escape from it. You don't know how to arrange everything so you can see those people and talk to them but not waste time doing nothing. You have no solution to this problem, so you run away from it.

Into the corner.

And you don't expect to come out anytime soon.