the evening

I'm sick of my heart being broken. Day after day, month after month- I can't decide if he's just a dumbass and doesn't know or if he's a psycho and likes to keep this- this THING we have going.
He knows how sensitive I am, and all my insecurities. He knows EVERYTHING, do I don't have to be fake all the time. I don't have to act like someone's always watching me, because they usually are.
I like when he's the only one watching.
I don't have to pretend with him.

I'm sick of everything. It seems like all I do is try- try to meet the standards of damn Mr. Park, of Korea, of the whole damn world.
Years after years, I've tried.
With him, I don't have to. With him, he just...knows. Knows how hard I try, so don't have to kill myself trying even more. Knows my fears, so I don't have to hide them. Knows my love, so I don't have to contort my face into the standards of how emotions are portrayed in others...
I don't have to pretend with him.