You can learn to love• Kyman love story•(completed)

In the wild (sorta)

This is just what I needed. Fresh air, away from civilization. Now I know why people like to camp. It's so calming out here, so peaceful. Like a whole other world. No annoying Jew sisters, or uptight Jew crushes, or terrible whore moms. Just me and my thoughts. I set up camp in the nice patch of grass I was thinking about earlier. No trees grew here, so there's this huge circle of grass, and since it's covered mostly by trees, there's barely any snow on the ground. I come here sometimes to just relax, maybe scheme. I once brought Kyle here to dissect him in the fifth grade. Good times, those were. I miss those days. The days where I could imagine Kyle without a shirt and be fine. I mean, there was always something there, but it was never as intense as it is now. I always had some sort of feelings for the guy, but they were never to this level. I guess that's part of the reason why I loved bugging Kyle back then. Whether it was making dumb bets  with him, disagreeing just to see his reaction, or simply messing with him in class. He just looks so cute when he's angry. That sounds weird to admit, but it's not like anyone can hear me. I think my attachment to Kyle being angry was what made me the way I was. I knew Kyle was good willed, therefore if I want his full attention, I need to be something he'd try fixing. I need to be the worst human alive. So, I sure acted like it. Every cynical, diabolical, and straight up sick thing I did, I always made sure someone was there for it. Just so Kyle could get word of what happened and give me his attention. I had to do something's without him knowing though, otherwise I wouldn't have any secrets to confess to doing later if he asks. I gotta be the worst being just for him. There were times I know I took it too far, or I did something I regretted, but for the most part, I think it's all worthwhile as long as I got what I wanted. Even though I very thoroughly believed everything I did, I did for myself, there were some exceptions. Like when I saved Kyle from the manbearpig, or in San francisco. I didn't understand why I wanted Kyle around so badly at the time, but now I know. I know that if Kyle wasn't around, I'd have no one. Kyle is the only person in the world who knows me. To Stan and Kenny, I'm a mystery, to my mom, I'm her sweet little poopsikins. To the school, I'm a trouble kid. To the police, I'm a future criminal, but to Kyle, I'm me. I know what Kyle thinks of me. He thinks I'm a messed up, anti-semitic, racist fatass. He also thinks I have some issues to work out, and has been trying to fix what everyone thought was permanently broken. He has faith that I can change, when everyone believe I'll never be anything but what I've done in the past. Kyle is the first person to give me a chance, and who am I to deny him that. Kyle knows everything about me, except the fact that I have a crush on him. Just like how I know everything about him. I know everything from his middle name to what time he was born, to what time he jacks off at night. That wasn't my fault by the way. I caught him doing it several times when I was spying on him for a week, and each time was at the same time. He's even organized in doing that. 

I just realises how long I sat in my tent just thinking about Kyle. Damn, I need to get a hold of myself. I know more than anyone else that Kyle will never like me back. It's just common knowledge. I shouldn't obsess over it. I might fall back into a depressive episode or something. I should focus on making smores. Sure, I like smores. As I'm roasting the marshmallows on the fire I built while thinking about Kyle, I'm observing how dark it's getting around me. It's probably getting really late. Well, I guess I should just eat some chips and get to sleep. I put out the fire, opened some cheesy poofs, and crawled into my tent. I didn't think to bring an air mattress, so I'm sleeping on the ground, with only my sleeping bag and the bottom layer of the tent keeping us apart. There's a see-through plastic top on the tent to see stars, but since the trees block the sky, that's a pointless feature to me. When I start to drift off to sleep, I contemplate if I should return tomorrow. I conclude that I have enough food to last me another day.

When I wake up, my wrist hurts badly. I'm not sure why, because I haven't even so much as looked at it since last time, until I unwrap the bandages. One of the deeper ones looks to be infected. I rewrapped the bandage and ignored it. It can't be that bad if I only just realised now. I stand to get up, but my head hurts and my throats sore. This is why I hate the outdoors. One day out here and I'm already sick. Oh well, I doubt I can make it home, so I gotta just wait it out. Most of the day, I spent eating, and only getting up from my tent to go to the bathroom, which was a very painful process. My groin hurts like a bitch, made even worse when I pee, not to mention diarrhea. It was almost torture being sick in the wild with no medicine, plus the throbbing in my arm. I'm also really tired, but my stuffy nose and aching throat are keeping me up. Great, now I'm regretting this. I can feel my body swelling and I can't do jack shit about it. Everything feels fake, and I'm not sure if I'm awake or asleep anymore. Everything feels like a blur. At some point, I hear footsteps approach me, and the zipper of the tent opening. Familiar fiery red hair and emerald eyes poke in.