as much as i love you // rui kamishiro.

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prologue.
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Sometimes, I wake up with a strange pain in my throat. Maybe it's because of the unstable weather, that there are days when the sun rises in a bad mood and it's colder than usual. Or when my room is an oven, which gradually suffocates me.

Before going to sleep, I cried until my eyes were exhausted and were the cause of my bad sleep. Tired eyes, which could barely see the blinding light of the sun peeking over the blinds.

The day began, and I already knew it was going to be a misfortune, the usual, but today, it was special. In what way? Well, school starts today.

Exactly because of that, because everything will go back to the way it always was. Still, I won't do anything to change it.

I hate spring, I hate March, I hate school days. A beginning, and an end, in November with winter. Enduring the rainy seasons, and droughts, bloom the beautiful flowers I've once longed to see together with a special person to me. Perhaps, next year.

. . .

The irritating tone of the alarm, which I set on purpose, interrupted my morning, deliberately seeking to wake me up eagerly, as the song said. There was no lack of desire to press with all my strength that button to shut it up once and for all, but my arm thought the opposite of my brain, acting on its own, against my will. The shrill sound stopped after about ten minutes.

And as if that wasn't enough, my mother called me to the door, seeing that the device didn't do its initial purpose.

"Get up!"

One, two, three. She walked away on the fourth knock. I feared for a fifth, so, I set out to, finally, begin my routine. Almost crawling on the floor, I grabbed the uniform hanging behind the door, the one I will wear for 365 days. I will experience memories of all kinds, bittersweet, happy, sad, and in each of them will highlight its unique color. How it clings to my body, being part of me.

Will we be together forever?

It is unbelievable that now, I will go back to living at school, since, I spend more time there than in my own home. Except for vacations, or the occasional day off, I sleep, I eat, I dream of getting out of there. In both places, I feel lonely.

What would be the difference between these four walls, if everywhere, they are a stranger. No one really knows me. My anxieties, fears, happiness, confusions, narrated on each sheet written with 0.5mm lead pencil, in the red diary I keep with my life. Without it, only the voice in my head would know every detail, date, moment, and I would go crazy, sharing my life with the reflection of the mirror, my voice, my face, while I tell how I have never fallen in love.

And it's true.

I may be sixteen years old that, neither before or since, I tasted sweet love. A confection I've coveted, yet my hands will never reach the great crystal that guards it. Because of them! Oh, and it will be a frustrated dream, like a capricious child. Who have never looked at me with those eyes, as they look at them, or at them.

I wish I could steal someone's gaze, make me feel like I'm the only one in the world for him, the reason for his happiness, the one he thinks of every morning when he wakes up, the first one to send and answer messages.

In short, things that only my diary knows.

Things that, for another year, I will never experience. I'm only a year away from graduating, to be just another boring adult, how devastating, the one who never knew how to love for fear of rejection.