Fragments of Former Selves

Vanity stood on the rooftop of the Barton Hotel, feeling the warm breeze against his face as he took in the Austin skyline. Austin wasn’t his hometown, but it had become his place to piece things back together after everything fell apart. When You Die by MGMT was playing in his ears, and it felt like more than just a song. It was like a sign, telling him that this version of himself was on its way out, making room for whatever was next.

It had been four years since Vanity allowed himself to dive deep into his feelings. Tonight, standing on the rooftop, those buried emotions came flooding back. Dreams he’d long forgotten started to surface, reminding him of everything he once wanted but had let go. They nudged him to rediscover parts of himself he’d lost along the way.

The unraveling began back in November 2020. A huge fight with his dad had ripped their already shaky relationship apart. Vanity walked out that day with just a backpack, car keys, and a pack of cigarettes, knowing he couldn’t go back. That day marked the end of his old life. For the next two years, he drifted around, never really settling, always feeling like a guest in other people’s lives.

Then, in October 2022, moving to Austin seemed like a chance for a fresh start. For a while, it was exactly that. He started working at the Barton Hotel in November and felt like he finally belonged somewhere. But now, as he looked out from the rooftop, he felt the weight of those four years pressing down on him. What once excited him now drained him, leaving him feeling empty.

With this job came losses—seeing friendships fall apart and watching his friend Cody’s mental health spiral. Cody’s self-sabotage reminded Vanity of his own past struggles, and her inability to take responsibility made it harder for him to trust anyone. Adding to the hurt, Evan, Cody’s friend, snagged a job Vanity had hoped for. Even years after losing a 14-year friendship and trying hard to build new connections, Vanity found it tough to let people in. The constant fear that they’d leave was always lurking, making real love from friends and family feel overwhelming. How could he accept love when he feared it might be gone the next day?

That fear of never being enough, of being unlovable, made him resent the very thing he craved. He wanted connection, but every time he started to trust someone, he remembered how easily people left, and he shut down. It seemed easier to keep people at arm’s length than risk losing them again.

Recently, Vanity had felt a shift inside him—a sense that something was changing. The Tower card from his latest tarot reading haunted him, symbolizing upheaval and transformation. It felt like the universe was bracing him for another storm. With Mercury in retrograde, a time for endings and new beginnings, he was left wondering how to let go and trust that everything would be okay.

Self-sabotage had been a constant in Vanity’s life. Trauma had taught him to push away anything good, to destroy his happiness before it could be taken. Each day felt like digging his own grave and watching the good things wither away. Replay by Lady Gaga kept playing in his head: “Every single day, yeah, I dig a grave, then I sit inside it wondering if I’ll behave.” The song captured his endless cycle of self-destruction, but when would Vanity realize he was the one triggering it?

Trauma had been woven into Vanity’s life from the start—witnessing domestic violence, suffering abuse, and facing rejection from his parents for being gay. Losing long-time friendships, sabotaging relationships, and the recent betrayal by his cousin had only reinforced his belief that he was unlovable.

As When You Die continued to play, Vanity thought about all the times he’d been on the brink of change. Each time, he faced the end of something—a relationship, a job, a chapter in his life. And now, he found himself on the edge of another transformation, hoping this time would be different.

The lesson Vanity had learned through all this was hard-earned: Change isn’t just about leaving the past behind; it’s about embracing it. Every version of himself, no matter how flawed, was part of his journey. He couldn’t keep digging graves and burying pieces of himself. Instead, he had to reclaim them, see them as parts of his story rather than mistakes. Maybe this time, instead of running from the past, he could face it, learn from it, and finally move forward. Maybe he could let people in, knowing that loss is part of the journey but not the whole story. And maybe, just maybe, he could accept the love he deserved, even if it scared him.