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❝ WHY WOULD YOU EVER KISS ME? ❞
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡︎♡︎♡︎ TO THINK THERE would come a time where I'd look at Ryuhei in disdain was quite outrageous, but here I am, finally feeling something as I look at him from afar while trying to woo a girl that was clearly disinterested in him. He looked so desperate and stupid that it reminded me of when he begged for me to stay as his friend, taking my hand and hugging me and telling me all those sweet nothings.
Was I angry? Of course I was. I was upset and disappointed that he could just throw away eleven years of friendship just for a girl he met that cured his ridiculous erectile dysfunction. It made me feel so worthless how he'd choose someone like her over me.
I don't understand how Ryuhei could do this to me. How he could just leave me hanging onto nothing, barely keeping myself together as he throws my heart to the ground and shatters it to a million pieces. But even those million pieces, he was in each and every one of them.
I love him.
That was a fact, not a well known one but it was an obvious one, and he knew that as well. I let him hold my heart and cherish it, thinking he'd keep it and never break the promises he made, but look at where we are now. My heart so shattered and his heart chasing another.
I hate him.
Now I do. After so many years of not knowing whether I was in love with him, I was certain that what I now felt for him was hatred. Burning, eternal hatred that would last for years and years, yet one smile from him once he comes back to me, that flame is no more.
Was I not enough?
I guess I wasn't. I guess Ryuhei has finally come to terms that I was really just a placeholder for something more meaningful that would come in his life. That I was merely puppy love and soon he'd meet his greatest love of all.
I love him so much that I hate him. I hate how he hurt me, I hate how I let him hurt me, and I hate myself for loving him too much.
After over a decade of being with someone like me, it's about time for him to get tired of me and replace me with someone that didn't worry him to the world's end, who could actual feel emotions and laugh along with his jokes, smile at him lovingly, and cry with him when he's sad. I couldn't do all of those things for him, so maybe that's why he left me.
People leave me for I was never enough or I'm just too much.
My father killed himself because I was too much of a burden for him, he couldn't have a normal child after all. I could only ever disappoint him, hurt him, upset him, and destroy him. That's why he left me at such a young age.
My caretaker left me because she finally got tired of taking care of me when she could've enjoyed her life as a young adult, going to parties and drinking, hanging out with friends and going on dates. I took a large portion of her young adult years and that's why she decided to leave me too.
And now, Ryuhei left me too. He left me to rot, to die, to cry, to feel the misery I've been shielded from in so many years. The only person who was left that could love me for so long decided that I was not worth his time anymore, abandoning me for someone that was more worthy, someone that could love him in ways I can't.
With all this emotional pain I was feeling right now, I couldn't stop myself from crying. So I cried. I cried, and cried, and cried in the playground that we first met, soaking my handkerchief with my salty tears and misery.
No one was here to comfort me, to tell me that I'm enough, to tell me that they love me, and to hug me. No one was here with me, not for a long time, and not even for a short time.
"Are you crying?"
Startled, I looked up to see my mother standing several feet away from me, holding her purse under her arm and looking a bit messy. It was clear that she was just about to go home from clubbing, I could already smell the alcohol from her.
My hands quickly rubbed the remaining tears on my cheeks and in my eyes, sniffling and wiping my nose with my already drenched handkerchief. I shook my head vigorously but I knew my mother didn't believe it, so she strode to me with her high heels clicking against the asphalt.
As soon as she was right in front of me, I looked down so she could avoid seeing my tearstained face, clutching the handkerchief in my hand as if my life depended on it. Not a second passed before she knelt in front of me, cupping my face gently with a worried look in her eyes, asking me the very question I feared she'd ask: "Why are you crying?"
I couldn't lie to her, not when she knows my condition and not when she's now giving a fuck about her only son. I couldn't physically and emotionally lie to her, and that hurt even more.
"He. . ." My voice cracked. I couldn't even begin my sentence properly and I was already breaking down. I'm pathetic. But mother was patient, she waited for me to finish as she caressed my face.
"He. . . He— He hurt me—"
The strength I was using to hold myself back from crying practically vanished as new sets of hot tears cascaded down my face, burning with all the emotions I've been trying to process all these years.
"Am— Am I not good enough? A-Am I not enough?" I tried my best not to sob, but as soon as my mother held me to her chest, I was already crying. She kept shushing me and hugging me, holding me close and whispering words I couldn't even understand.
"Why am I not good enough?" I asked. I repeated the same question again, and again, and again, and again, until I was certain my mother was tired of hearing it.
"Why do people always leave me?"
Because you're worthless, [M.Name]. They only tolerated you because they pity you.
