AN: Alright, it appears I'm still in the fandom and do ship Cryde very much. I blame tumblr for throwing this pair at me again. I did miss them. This will be a multi-chapter and also a bit of a vent fic for me, so hopefully it's not terrible. I have big ideas for it, so please review!

The night air is chilly. It's always chilly. I pull my jacket tighter around myself to try and ward off the cold, but it doesn't help much. The cold has already seeped in to my bones. Hell, my soul is probably a block of ice at this point. At least, that's what my mother always tells me.

Speaking of mothers, I haven't gotten along with mine in a long while. If I'm honest with myself, I can't remember the last time we had a civil conversation. I can't remember the last time she hugged me. No, lately it's all been screaming and arguing or just plain ignoring each other. Along with the occasional brawling cage match that all Tucker's seem to be capable of.

I still love my family, it's never been about that, but ever since my dad died, it's been nearly unbearable living them. It's almost like he was the one line anchor stopping our family from drifting out to sea. But now he's gone, and we're all stuck in the Atlantic with no navigation and no life boats.

Now I'm wandering the streets of South Park in the middle of the night trying to find my own lifeboat. I've been spending all my days at Stark's Pond carving my initials into anything I could dig my pocket knife into. I'm pretty sure every tree, bench, and picnic table has been signed at this point. I used it to keep my mind off everything going on around me. And it worked for a while, but lately I've felt the need to move on to something better. Something more permanent.

I've had this plan for months now to just pack everything and leave. The longer I've stayed, the more I've realized there's nothing left for me here. I've been trying everyday to paddle myself back to shore, but every time I blink, I end up back where I started, caught in the middle with no shore in sight.

Now my arms are tired, so I know it's time to make some changes. My dad always used to tell me that if I'm unhappy, I can't just sit around and wait for things to get better, I need to fix it myself. I doubt he ever thought I would use his advice to talk myself into running away but thing haven't exactly been normal lately.

By the time I make it back to my house, it's well past midnight. I forego the front door, I know my mom locked it behind me, and make my way to the trellis, hoisting myself up to my bedroom window.

I've used the trellis to sneak out of my room hundreds of times to either escape groundings or go to last minute sleepovers at Clyde's or Token's. Why my parents never thought to take the thing down is beyond me, but I'm not one to complain.

Now that I'm in my room for what may be the last time, I'm frozen. I look at all my belongings, my bed, my guinea pig, the pictures of friends I've taped to my walls over the years.

I feel small standing there, like I'm eight years old. I feel like my life is ending, and I guess in a way it is. I want to cry, but I've never been one for that. I've never been an emotional person. No one in my family is. We carry our emotions in our middle fingers, something that used to get me in a shit ton of trouble as a kid.

Showing any type of emotion has always been weird to me. Even when I dated Red for two years, she said I acted like a robot. I barely bat an eye when she broke up with me. My best friend, on the other hand, can cry at the drop of a hat. He says he wishes he were more like me, but I honestly wish I were more like him. Maybe life would have been easier if I could have shown how I was feeling.

I could have told my parents I love them, I could have cried when my dad died. I feel like a freak sometimes because there are days I feel nothing.

Before I know it I have my suitcase dug out of my closet and all my clothes haphazardly thrown in. I need to make this quick before I start to regret things. I pack everything I think I might need, my clothes, phone, chargers, a few of my books, and my camera. I grab Stripe III's cage last and make my way downstairs as quietly as possible. I throw all my stuff in my truck and strap the cage in the passenger seat before I notice someone watching me from down the sidewalk.

Clyde shuffles a few steps closer to me, his hands shoved in the pockets of his letterman jacket. I don't know why he wears that thing anymore. We graduated over a year ago. It's almost like he's trying to hold onto his former self when he was in his prime.

Clyde was the king in high school. He shed all his baby fat in the tenth grade and went on to win all the football games and the hearts of all the girls. They all thought his 'sensitivity was sexy' or some shit like that. He nearly rivaled Kenny in the amount of sex he had. Those days ended as soon as high school did though. Most of the people we knew left for college. The only people left in South Park now are us two, Tweek, Kenny, and Bebe. Tweek's okay to hang out with sometimes, but Kenny and Bebe are unbearable. They're usually too busy fucking each other to spend time with anyone else anyway.

Clyde and I have always been close, but I feel like our relationship definitely changed once high school ended. Before there was always Token and Tweek and occasionally Jimmy or Kevin when we spent time together, but now that everyone's moved on, we've had a lot of time to get to know each other one on one. I think I've learned more about Clyde and his family in the past year than I had the entire time we were in school. I can honestly say now that he's the best friend I've ever had and probably will ever have again. I can't imagine my life without him. Which is when it hits me.

"You want to go on a road trip?"