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A week has passed since that day.
Yes.
A whole fucking week has passed since the day I decided to confess.

I still remember it clearly.
You panicked, squealed and ran out the door.

Maybe I shouldn't have been so straight forward?

You continued to leave me notes but started avoiding me.
It was so fucking obvious.

Music class: You would sit on the corner or aisle and before I could occupy the only seat beside you, you would let your friend sit there.

Break time: I see you walking down the hallway or the cafeteria and the moment our eyes meet, you literally turn around and walk to another direction.

Dismissal: you always leave early.

What the actual fuck is with you.
I said I liked you back.
I FUCKING SAID I LIKED YOU BA-

I need to calm down.
Calm down.
Calm down.
Calm down.

I hate waking up early.
But I guess I should get used to it.
Cause that's one of the only ways to fucking communicate with you.

Leaving a note before you do is the only fucking way to tell you something.

'Let's date'

I wrote, sticking it on the piano early in the morning.

It was already dismissal.
You already left.
I know that you saw the note.

The Last • m.ygWhere stories live. Discover now