That's not the way things are supposed to be.
No, I don't think so.
I wonder when they will understand that's not the way things are supposed to be.
Again, that "alone" feeling was leaving me gasping for air and for something real, friendship, maybe, love, because everything I had summed up to fake, just fake.
Not because anyone is mean, or intending to do anything to hurt me, actually, most of them love me, but they don't understand me, no.
These aren't just words coming out of my darn fifteen years old inexperienced teenage boy mouth, no, it's something more.
I am scared, I am scared of that feeling, I am scared of staying alone, I am scared of ghosts, and the dark, and though I am forced to be mature I'm not, my fears are still silly fears a silly darn fifteen years old inexperienced teenage boy brain has, yes, I want to be a child.
I say I like it better alone, I feel like I like it better alone, but it's not because I was always a loner, it's just that I understood the secret of life: It's either people will hurt me, either I will hurt them, either something will tear us apart, either they're not worthy.
Saying love, and best friends and good relationships exist, for me, it's like believing Alice's wander land is real, right in my back yard, and the bunny's waiting for me in the kitchen, but you know, I don't even have a back yard.
I say I want something real, and that I'm lonely, I just said it, but it's a lie, I don't want anything real because I know there is no real, I know I'm better alone, I know I will never experience love and I think no one did or ever will, I don't think love can be real. No, at least not for Choi Youngjae, or just a fifteen year old inexperienced teenage boy if you'd like that better.
"Hey Youngjae!" Jackson waved from across the school building, Mark and him putting things in their lockers, I assume they had a class together, as they usually do.
Jackson and Mark both are two years older than me, and except joking around about respect, they don't really bug me about the fact I'm only 15 and they're 17.
"Hey guys." I leaned on the locker next to Mark's, and stared at him.
We are best friends, all three of us, that's why it's wrong.
It's wrong because he's a boy, and he's my best friend, so that can't be.
I can't have a major crush on Mark.
A few things I know; I know I like him, I know how to cook, I know how to sing, and I know how to be embarrassing.
One thing I forgot to mention is the fact I know Mark will never like me back, he has a girlfriend, and he's straight, so why is my brain still acting the way it does.
"I hate it when you do this!" Jackson hit my head with his notebook. "When I do what?! Breathing? I was just standing!" I hit him back.
"No, I called you and you ignored me." He says. "Anyway-" he then stopped talking at the sight of Mr. Han, his teacher. "I bailed his class, hide me!" He said and right away Mark and I leaned on Jackson to hide him, pretending to talk.
All I could think of was how close Mark's lips were to mine.
"Eggs and bacon, eggs and bacon, eggs and bacon." Mark said with a serious face and I could hear Jackson's laughter from behind us.
Those were the moments I appreciated, the moments they could make me smile.
***
Two Years Later
That "Alone" feeling again.
Crawling slowly from the back of my head until it tickles my feet washing every small bit of every other feeling.
When that feeling comes, I feel like I'm paralyzed by it, every nerve on my body can't work, only my eyes, full of tears, trying to wash it away out of my system, but no matter how much I cry, the "Alone" always stays there, because it's waterproof, I think.
