Closer: Tyler, The Creator

30. Old Habits

I woke up on Tyler's bed—but he wasn't anywhere near me.

I was still shaken up.

I moved the covers off of me as I went into his closet to grab a hoodie. As I got out, Tyler walked right past me. He didn't say anything.

"Tyler. Please,"

He shut the door to the bathroom harshly, making me jump.

I waited anxiously as he got out, moving past me as he made his way to the other room. I heard the door shut again.

I walked over to the room he was locked in.

"Tyler please fucking talk to me." I punched the door, "I'm fucking sorry, I don't know what else to say!"

My voice cracked under my tears again. I was begging. I slid down against the door to the ground. I didn't want it to end like this.

Tyler opened the door minutes later. He moved past me as he made his way downstairs. I watched him in shock.

"You're just gonna keep ignoring me?"

I followed him downstairs.

He grabbed his gym bag in the kitchen. I watched as he slid his phone into his pocket.

"TYLER!" I pushed on his arm but he didn't care.

He grabbed a water from the fridge before moving past me.

"You can't do this forever. I'll do anything."

I stopped in front of the door before he could open it.

He didn't look at me.

"I'm not moving until you say something to me."

Tyler's jaw clenched; I could see it.

He threw his gym bag across the room; shattering a glass vase. I jumped as I watched him walk into the kitchen again, breathing heavier.

I pressed my ears shut as he wiped everything off of the long kitchen counter. It fell to the ground, all the plates and kitchenware crashing harshly onto the ground.

"FUCK!"

He threw the glass plates across the kitchen; they flung on the TV that was mounted on the wall.

I was crying watching him destroy everything; letting out the anger he had been keeping inside.

I could only hear him as I shut my eyes closed.

"FUCK! FUCK!" He kicked the chairs into the table and punched the walls, growling.

I covered my mouth as I tried to keep in my sobbing.

He moved past me and shut the door so hard, the painting fell from the living room wall—shattering the protective glass case.

...

I couldn't do anything all day but wait for him to come back. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to let anyone see me. My eyes were swollen from crying.

I responded to my mom and Frank, letting them know I was staying at Tyler's. I was definitely not going to speak to anyone about this. It was a fury I had never seen before. It shook me to my core.

He hurt everything around him but me.

He'd never put his hands on me—regardless of the fact that I betrayed him in the worse possible situation. It made me hate myself even more for ever giving into Rakim.

I was the reason T killed him.

It lingered in my mind again and again.

Now I was worried that they would come for Tyler.

It was 3 am; I was beginning to fall asleep. He still wasn't home.

...

I woke up to the sound of the door shutting closed downstairs. I got up quickly as I looked out of the window next to me. Tyler was gone again.

I cursed as I got up, checking the room he had previously been in. He had left his gym bag there but nothing else.

I looked through it to see if anything was out of place but it looked normal.

Fuck it.

It wasn't any use staying here knowing he wouldn't even look at me. I hoped to give him some time to recover.

I grabbed my stuff from the room as I began to walk downstairs—something stopping me as I looked down at it.

It was laced underwear; and definitely not mine. He must've dropped it on accident on his way up last night. He must've gone back to the strip.

He was going back to his old ways and I couldn't even be mad at him. I deserved it.

I left.