tw // self harm
platonic: the word i hate the most. you looked perfect today, might i add. i love the way your eyes morph into small crescents on your face whenever you smile. i love when you hold my hand while we walk down to the store, when you push me while i get on the cart until the staff kicks us out— but we wouldn't care. we'd laugh. in my head, i trick myself to thinking you like me, choi soobin.. liking me. affectionate, friendly, endless words you could use to describe it— yet you choose the ones that hurts the most, platonic.
" i love you "
" baby "
words i'd love to hear; but the meaning begins carving out— like a pumpkin on halloween— when you label those as platonic.
to you, if you'd ever know my true feelings for you, you'd call me crazy, wicked, sick in the head to have think that you're into boys. but what hurt the most was seeing you with her.
her perfect black hair swooshing in the wind as she spoke, her gold earrings dangling; she was perfect. another reason to hate myself again.
was i not perfect ?
was i too fat ?
was i too ugly ?
i need to get prettier, so soobin would like me, because it wasn't fair.
it wasn't fair.
i started sobbing and tearing out all the pages of my diary, screaming all the emotions and things i'm too afraid to say to your face. i'm scared soobin, i'm scared you'll think low of me—i can't lose you. you're mine; and i'll do whatever it takes.
