Three years ago, I was sad. You saw my tweets and sent me a virtual-hug-penguin GIF. I thought, "Ah, you're nice." I thought I could trust you. I poured out my feelings, stupidly thinking I could finally be liberated of my burdens. I shared meals with you. I asked you out for dinner because I didn't want to eat alone.

I asked you to walk me to the bus stop even when the next block we were at was where you live. You complied to my every request and I thought we were friends. Close friends. And a potential shoulder I could lean on when I'm tired.

You asked of my problems. I replied. I poured. I gave everything. I knew you had it worse than me. I knew you were far more sad than me. I knew it wasn't just "sad" for you, and so I asked. I asked of your problems. I thought it was only fair. I probed and stuck my nose into every of your worrying tweets. Even when you grew tired of ignoring my stubborn questions and cursed and insulted me, I still stuck around like a gum stuck on a strand of hair. 

And so you pulled out that strand. That strand left me stranded. I was confused. I was lost. I opened doors only to face another door, each successing door tougher to pass through than the previous. Never did you know that your indifference to my concern for you made me build walls around myself. You blocked me. So I blocked everyone else too. I thought it was only fair.

I had to find a way to tell you that I will always be here for you even if you didn't want me to. I was there for days, which turned to weeks, and then months. I was hurt. Somehow that thing morphed into some kind of leech that  onto my nerves. It ate away my sanity, and my ability to think straight whenever I felt alone. It shook my body and made my heartbeat palpitate abnormally. I can't find any way to prevent it.

Two years later, we sat beside each other, hatred and hurt faded to near nothing. A foreign feeling I never imagined to associate you with replaced them instead. I touched your scars and you touched mine. We've changed so much yet nothing was new. I would like to consider myself the first person who got to know of the start of the path you made to warm yourself up to girls.

The final year rolled around and honestly, I was afraid. It haunted me for many nights. I looked up at the black sky of nothingness wondering how and where did we go wrong. And now I still do. I still yearn for the day I can finally look at you without our masks on. We're both afraid.

You made me hate that school. You made me hate how I lived my life. You made me hate myself.

You were just someone. Someone who had hurt me before. Someone I warned myself to never trust again. Someone who taught me to build walls around myself so that no one else can just barge in and mess up everything and then leave like nothing had happened. Someone who had nothing to give me when I gave everything. 

You occupied a huge space in my heart. A hole was the next occupant of that space when you left. Was it easy leaving just like that? Was I the only one still holding onto us all this while? 

Have you ever thought of how selfish you were? Have you ever thought what would happen to me? If you just left like that? Taking along my everything that I gave you? How did you feel? Did you feel disgusted like I did? Did you feel dumb like I did? Have you ever felt regretful to give out so much and watch the person you gave it to just walk off with it? Like I did? 

I'm left with so many questions to ask you but you left me on mute. I scream, I thrash, I demand, but you never replied. I cried, I hurt, I got sad. Night time became more comfortable and safe for me. I learned to find solitary in it.

I never knew. I didn't know. It was an intangible feeling. It was like standing in a black fading mist where everything was blur and ambiguous. When you shone your light onto me, I followed voluntarily. I was happy I found a way out. I was happy I was saved.

Then suddenly that light was gone.

You left me in permanent panic and fear. And then I was the mist itself. 

I vowed to never do what you did to others who confided in me. I break too many promises now. I mastered a skill I never knew could be learned. We were too young.

We're both afraid of crossing this thin line that separates us. I can't help but to wonder; will one of us be brave enough to salvage whatever's left of our complicated relationship? Or will we continue to live our lives as pathetically as it is now?

When will you finally answer my questions? How much longer must I wait? I don't think I can last any longer. They are back, and I don't think they'll leave me alone this time.

Where are you? Will you come back?