Summary:
I will hide these feelings until, one day, I’ll move on.
What if he’ll die in the war? You will really regret it.
Then that’s a burden I’m willing to carry.
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It hurts. The way he rejected as if I have disease. The way his eyes looked at me colder than ice. That’s when I realized that he’ll never love me back that all he ever showed me are kindness. And I am stupid enough to assume that there’s something more every time he touches me if I’m injured or every time he defends and helps me if I made a mistake.
One day, I just can’t take it anymore. I said to him everything that I felt that he’s my everything, that I’m willing to take care of him despite the danger. But he just stared at me and shouted for me to get out.
I still love him. I really do. No matter what I do my eyes follows him everywhere. But one thing I learned is to never show it to him. To hide everything and remain professional when he’s talking to me.
I can’t count how many times I cried myself to sleep. I just hope that this feeling will go away.
---
I didn’t know he heard me talking with my best friend one day.
“I will hide these feelings until, one day, I’ll move on.”
“What if he’ll die in the war? You will really regret it.”
“Then that’s a burden I’m willing to carry.”
“…but...”
“No, you didn’t see him look at me with such cold eyes when I confessed to him. I’m a soldier. I will get through this no matter what.”
---
I was shot. Good thing I survived. Stupid enemy: shooting me in my chest where I hide my journal. I don’t know if I should be thankful to that idiot though.
I was lying in my hospital bed when corporal came to see me. My first reaction is to mask my happiness when I saw him, alive. He’ll never return my feelings so all I could ever do now is be thankful that he’s still alive despite the war. And pray that he’ll survive, go home safely and live his life. It sounds cheesy but I decided that that’s how I will show my love for him, secretly.
So I was shocked when I saw him cry. What’s he crying for? Don’t get my hopes up idiot. Then he hugged me. He told me how he regretted everything. How thankful he is that I am alive. And how it was hard to keep his feelings hidden when he doesn’t know when one of us will die in the battlefield. That he can’t afford to love me and loose me in the war.
My heart swelled. I cried too. We cried for a very long time, hugging each other, saying I love you-s as if there’ll be no tomorrow.
I guess I should thank that idiot who shot me.
