Chapter 3; "Promise."

When someone gets sentimental, I feel really awkward and my mind falls blank. I'm very self-centred and selfish, if you couldn't already tell. I guess that's what happens when you spend most of your life being holed up in your room; reading, drawing, watching videos, studying and doing work all by yourself without company. I had no one to turn to when I was at my lowest. My parents think that I'm being irrational, my brothers don't do girly stuff, and my friends don't care enough to listen. I guess every single one of us are innately selfish, in a way.

I learnt to cope, I guess. Being by myself, I mean. It's not too bad. I learnt to like being on my own and I learnt to do things on my own. The only downside was that it made me socially inept and basically vulnerable against the outside world. Apparently, communication is an important thing for survival. I couldn't care less, really. Avoiding any form of social interaction was better than dealing with the crap most people do these days.

We were at his house — just doing whatever — not knowing that it would be our last time together. 

His mother was a nice woman with weary eyes and frail-looking hands. I was kind of worried at first because she looked as if she was going to collapse at any random moment. She had a very nice smile though, and there was some sort of resolve in her that I couldn't help but admire. Whenever she looked at Youngjae, she looked at him with so much warmth and something so much more — that 'L' word that I hated talking about.

I almost envied him, really.

My parents gave up on me, I think. I'd like to blame their poor parenting skills and the whole world in general, but I can't really. 

I find it incredibly stupid how people are always advertising all these counselling and mental health bullcrap when, in reality, they don't give a damn about any of your problems. In this world, everyone is apathetic towards you. In this society, you weren't allowed to be sad. 

I've tried reaching out — too many times to count. Instead of encouraging and consoling words you'd expect from an adult or a friend, they turn around and tell you to set yourself straight. When I realised that no one was going to help, I started to suppress everything in — to the point when —one day, I could no longer decipher or describe what I was feeling; just anger, jealousy and very bitter things. I lost the ability to speak truthfully and ended up constructing this comical persona in hopes of attaining that happiness I desperately wanted to reach. In turn, it made the people around me angry because I wouldn't say anything or bother to explain what my words actually meant.

I don't understand why I'm like this. Sometimes, I wish I was a bit more selfless, maybe even a bit more empathetic and a bit passionate and driven. The thing is, I'm sick of being sad. Because, while I'm all wallowing in self-pity, I know, somewhere deep within me, that there are people out there who are suffering more than I am. I want to disappear. Not because I'm sick of living, it's because I know I'd be doing the world a huge favour. If given the chance, I'd gladly exchange my own life for someone else. My parents wouldn't have to deal with someone so pathetic, my friends wouldn't have to deal with my crap, and I wouldn't be able to hurt anyone anymore.

"What do you want to become?" 

"A horticulturist." It was a goddamn lie, of course. I'm not all that interested in plants. 

I felt extremely irritated as I moved my king away from his knight. It was obvious that the pretty bastard was going to win.

"Really... why's that?" he asked as he took my rook. He sounded sceptical.

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "I want to become a professional gamer. Well, when I was younger anyway. I tried to do singing but... it didn't work out too well. Now I'm just doing whatever."

"I don't really know what I want to be," I hesitantly admitted. "Maybe a potato? Professional procrastinator? Or maybe something along the lines of sleeping and doing nothing."

He huffed. "It'd be nice if those actually existed. I... I think we're all afraid of disappearing at some point, so we forcibly pass the status quo on to the younger generation as a semblance of progress."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one who feels pressured and imprisoned by all this bullcrap."

"It's difficult accepting the world as it is. We're... just being a little too stubborn," he mused as he finally cornered my king. "Checkmate."

I drew out a sigh and laid down on my backside. I found it uncomfortable so I rolled to my side, facing away from him. I suddenly felt like taking a nap. I was feeling tired for no reason all over again. Hopefully the bastard didn't mind me sleeping on his floor. He wasn't all for me sleeping on him though, because he poked me and handed me some cheap yellow colouring pencil.

I glared at him. He gestured at the table where his chess set was magically replaced by crayons and some paper. I reluctantly joined him in making kiddy cartoons and half-hearted drawings of random objects. 

It was nice and quiet; I'd almost describe it as tranquil. For once, I felt momentarily at peace. It was one of those fleeting moments where I wished I had the ability to stop time. I feared a lot of things... but most of all, I was afraid of change. 

I didn't want to let go of this peace. The time I was spending with him that many people would normally find childish and extremely mundane. For me, it was more than enough. I wanted to keep this memory. 

But what I wanted most was to spend time with this person, who was so much more than what he showed himself to be.

It was wishful thinking though. Despite the mutual attraction we had for each other, we knew it wasn't going to work out. I was too broken and unstable and he had his own demons to deal with. We both knew that we were going through a difficult time and it was impossible to pursue a relationship when we couldn't even fix ourselves. 

While I tortured myself by not sleeping or over sleeping, he tortured his own body with poison. Something that I was completely unaware of until I received the call from his mother.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. At first, I had no idea why he was apologising. "Can you promise me one thing? Promise that you'll heed your friend's advice and do what makes you happy."

He was acting weird all of a sudden. He wasn't looking at me in the eye. 

Youngjae had done many things for me — no matter how small. He gave more than he took and he placed other people before himself. I figured that since I took a lot from him, and thinking that he might genuinely care along with Jongup, I would do his request and finally take a few steps forward.

In the end, he was the one who pulled me back up again, without me knowing that he was suffering and tearing himself apart. 

I'm a terrible person. 

I... I shouldn't have said anything to him. I shouldn't have pushed all the burden on him. If only I had kept my goddamn mouth shut. If only I listened to him a bit more then maybe I could've stopped him. Because no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to be that perfect person, no matter where I go, I end up hurting the people around me. I'm so pissed at myself. I should've cared more. I should've been helping him as much as he was helping me. I should've been pulling him more from the misery that he was drowning in.

I hate myself so goddamn much. 

What I hate more is that — even with all the talk of helping him — I have no idea what I could've done or changed to see him smile a little bit more and maybe reassure him that he wasn't alone. I don't know if the ache in my chest is guilt or remorse or sadness. 

Or maybe it was all three.

I don't know anymore. 

Maybe we weren't meant to be happy after all.