i was back in your part of town yesterday. it was the first time since i had left for the last time four months ago. (i hate that i now know it as "your part of town.") and all of the memories came flooding back. nights of drives to nowhere and singing every lyric at the top of our lungs to blaring music in juneau. nights of you walking barefoot because neither of us had a key and (wrongly) thought that the other did, us stumbling home. thankfully, i had felt nothing but numb. only mild panic when i had thought that some rando walking in from off the street was one of your friends i had met twice, briefly. and fortunately, aptly, it was deserted everywhere. i was merely a ghost visiting.

at night, i had laid in the comforting darkness, distracting myself with Modern Family on netflix. but before i drifted off to sleep, i had made sure to journal.

i think of you now as the last test i will ever fail in this regard. my final nail in the coffin to non-reciprocation. i hate that you have any sort of standing at all in the history of me but this last run-and-jump-off had been a long time coming.

and now the lines blur between whether it was all for the better or for the worse but this one thing i know can never be truer: there is no greater priority in my life now than to safeguard myself at all costs. so thanks, i guess—for helping me remember just how much i love running; how good and how freeing it is. running keeps me safe. it always has and it always will. move, move, never stop moving.