𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞.

choices

Dear Yoongi,

Do you remember screaming at me until you were blue in the face?

It was Chuseok, a year later. Your mother had invited me and my parents over for dinner, a tradition our two families had carried out for fifteen years, taking it in turns to host.

When we arrived your father told me you were up in your room alone, and that you didn't want to be disturbed.

Did I not deserve so much as a hello anymore?

I tried to get your attention from across the dinner table when we ate, but to no avail. You didn't take your eyes off your plate the entire hour as you poked and prodded at the hangwa the rest of us had made and decorated without you beforehand.

That's why i followed you up to your room afterwards, I missed my friend, I wanted you back, but you pushed me away.

Literally this time.

On the floor with my back against the wall I let you yell at me, you called me every name under the sun.

Annoying.

Needy.

Clingy.

Irritating.

Pathetic.

Useless.

Disgusting.

Faggot.

Were you ashamed of me, or yourself?

Would your friends not have approved?

Even then I couldn't hate you. Even though every fibre of my being was screaming out, telling me to fight back. To curse you out, and hit you,

I couldn't.

I wanted to believe that those words weren't coming from you, even as they tumbled from your newly pierced lips. It wasn't you, right?

That's why I forgave you. Again.

I could forgive you, but I couldn't forget.

Even when the choices you made were wrong, even when you upset and hurt me, i was still your friend. You were entitled to make those choices, whether they were your own or from someone else hiding in the shadows turning you into someone I didn't want you to become, you made them.

It was those choices, that path that you followed that broke who you were.

It didn't have to be the end of you. I saw so much potential in you. I saw so much life in you, but you didn't want to fight for it.

In the end, you would rather take the easy way out and lose who you were than to stand up and be your own person; the person I knew you were inside.

There was always the opportunity for you to change and make the right decisions, it could have been the beginning of getting the old you back, a better you if you had wanted it.

But the door slamming in my face once more was the nail in the coffin.

I didn't want to give up on you, but you gave me no choice.

You were toxic and I didn't have the strength in me to be my own antidote.

PJM