Letters to First Broken Love ✔ | Book 1 j.jk |

✏✉ Eighth Letter ✏✉

Love, your crush

...

Today I had the privilege of visiting the school's girl toilettes for the first time in my middle school life.

Reason? Easy.

You. It's always you, Jeon Jungkook.

You have always made me go out of my way just for you. Like a desperate anime girl wanting for her Senpai to notice her, I wanted to be near you and be a part of your life. We could always be together. Those only 'me and you' talks became less and less frequent. You were starting to become more and more popular with girls and made other friends, while I was just the same old. The amount of competition rose and this time it wasn't just Yugyeom. It was many, many, mANY hormonal preteen girls. Let's say I was intimidated.

I may seem like a stalker, but that was my only excuse of why I signed up for the school's extracurricular activities. Many others (including you) did it so they could skip math class. 

Apparently, I had participated in the school's dance recital. Look, I didn't know how to dance and I sucked at it. People love it, but I couldn't even move a single finger to a rhythm. To join was easy, but to learn the dance was living hell. However, my determination to have a slight chance into being partnered up with you kept me going. Staying until late, sometimes cutting my studying hours short learning the steps, then perfecting and smoothing them. But I wasn't good enough.

You never believed in me. My teacher didn't believe me as well as I was partnered with somebody else. Apparently, I was so bad I stood near the end, where I couldn't be noticed.

I felt like a ghost. Somebody that was misplaced between all those people that had personality, looks, talent, or charisma. The visulas that shone in thier brightness. Very few to none had academics like me. But even if they did, they weren't this shy, quiet and bland person. I was so jealous of the ones who were in the front including you. They had talent and skill and I felt so ridiculous to even fathom the idea of joining. I felt nothing. Those insecurities intensified more and more each day as the show finally arrived.

Nonetheless, I carried on and had some fickle hope that you'd encourage and support me. Maybe I didn't have the inner beauty, but I hoped not to fail my outer one. 

Added to the list of people that doubted me was also my mom. She never liked my decision, because it was affecting my concentration, my grades etc. A waste of my time she said. Of course, I knew that I looked ridiculous doing things that just didn't suit me.

But she gave in to my childish antics just to make me content and we tried searching for the uniform. Red shirt and tights along with black skirts and shoes.

I already had the red shirt and tights. I managed to find the shoes, but the skirt was definitely missing.

We went on a search to find it, but to no avail. I was so disappointed and my mom looked so fed up with my constant whining. So whatever I had I just went with it.

The next day I found you waiting at the school front door just when I came. You greeted me with a sparkle of hope in your eyes, but it all faded when you saw that I came in with the incorrect dress code. You left immediately. The same looks were on my teacher and some other people and the classmates. They were ready to kick me out. After all good for nothing dancer and no uniform.

So we somehow found a solution. Somebody offered me a piece of navy blue cloth that could be tied around. 

It looked ridiculous. 

I did too. It looked like a maid's apron. It was extremely short and loosely tied so in one drop my glittery underwear would be exposed. I guess this was the price I had to pay. Also, it took me a while to put it in the minuscule nasty cubicles, which I always loathed.

I did the dance. It went great. I felt great. I knew that none of that applause was meant for me as I was just a horrendous fashion experiment; the sore thumb. But I wanted to enjoy and relish to the feeling for a while. For all the humiliation and judgment I went through, I learned that it wasn't worth it a bit.

The show was finally over and after changing once again in my other clothing. I told my mom about everything. And of course, both she and my sister didn't take it too well. They just made things worse by repeating what I already knew. 

Then came the looks of disappointment from everyone.

I was more embarrassed.

Nobody congratulated me on that day. It proved more and more that I didn't need to try at all. Everything was going to be useless.

Especially, the things I did for you.

I quit and yet it wasn't enough for you to notice. You didn't care even though I hope you would.

Maybe some words like 'oh you did great!' Or 'I'm happy we did sth together!' Or at least 'you did good today...'

But nope.

Now I'm watching by the sidelines, understanding it all. The crucial difference between our worlds and how no matter hard I tried I couldn't fit in.

But I'm also thanking you because now I enjoy weddings more. I always kill it at the folk traditional dances hehe.

...

Dear Kookie