a/n: there has been a series of seriuosly unfortunate events that occured continously for the past week or so, and yeah, i've just been a bit of out it, and i know, what a lame excuse, but i finally returned to writing because i know it'll get my mind off things!

and before anything...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WOOHYUN AND JOON! LOVE YOU BOTH! stay healthy and grow to be even more handsome!

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Your POV

After what happened, I decided to go to the only people I could ever talk to...my parents. my real parents of course. I visited their graves, which i only later found the location.

I sat for a solid hour or so, having a deep conversation with them inside my head before leaving after I noticed my mentality state has gone a bit whack. I tried stabalising myself as I held the grave to support myself.

I sat in my car for a while, trying to think of someone who could potentially comfort me. I ended up relying on alcohol to comfort me. I cried relentlessly...until i remembered someone; Kibum.

Kibum was the only person I could ever talk to. The only person I could ever say anything to. Though we met suddenly, our relationship bonded so strongly and quickly. there was not a single person that I could be myself to...besides him. I developed feelings for him easily obviously, but I never wanted to risk our friendship, so i just kept my feelings steady. I couldn't help but smile and to think of how lucky I am to have someone like him.

I dialled his number, only to be directed to his voice mail, again, and again, and again. I don't know why, but it hurted, alot. I felt jealous, I felt the need to seek revenge. Why can't i ever end up with someone that truely loves me for who I am? Why am I always ending up with a terrible path? I cried my eyes out, allowing the alcohol to seep in.

The next day, i came by his house, to see no one home, and then returned home to drink away my thoughts, then tried to drunk call him because he was the only thing ever on my mind. This process happened for days on end. And for a month or so, I lost all contact to him. I always spoke to his voicemail, which somewhat made me feel slightly better, and a little less psychotic.

"HEY! It's Kibum the great!!! HAHAHA! I'm unavailable right now, with fabulous things! So please! Leave a message, and if I'm feeling extra radical, I might even call you back! BYEEEEE!!!!" and then a beep would follow his voice, and then I begin. I don't remember all the messages I sent, but it's well over a hundred, easily.

There's a few that I can remember faintly.

"Kibum-ah...where are you...i miss you...please...come back...just for a while."

"I'm so selfish...but I wish you were to tell me everything is ok...even if it's not..."

"I would do everything and anything to just see you again..."

"So many things have happened...and there's not a single person I could talk to but you...and where are you? My heart is aching...I...I'm so numb now...I just...I need you to just be here. I just want to know that you're safe, and that you're living healthily."

"Kibum...please...what am I without you...please...come back"

"I miss you...terribly"

Everything besides that is a complete blur. Everytime I was intoxicated, I would look through our old messages, photos, and belongings. i would reminisce, which only ended up into hurting me more. I eventually shut everything out and lost my job at the bar since I never turned up there. As the nights became my best friends and burden was heavening my tiny shoulders, I resulted into self harm. With each cut, the blood streamed down, trickly slowly onto my carpet and staining them until there was a small puddle. I could never stop thinking of Kibum.

My weakened body finally got the courage to drive to his place. Though drunk, I was able to somehow drive to his place. With a bottle of liquor in hand and a boquet of flowers in the other, I banged against the door loudly, my drunk voice calling out for Kibum.

"YAH! Do you know what time it is? Go back home!" a middle aged woman said, urging me to go.

"Kibum-ah, open the door for me." I said, continuing to bang against the door.

"Kibum? Aigoo, he moved out last week! Don't come back here anymore!" the lady said and returned back into her home.

I sank down against the wall and slammed the boquet of flowers to the floor. Out of all people..the only person i could ever talk to had to leave. The person I was willing to die for left me. I ruffled my pockets and found a small blade inside. I drank some liquor before pressing the weapon against my skin, the familiar pain arose, arousing me pleasurably as I found that this method was the only way I could torture myself for even existing.

With every cut, I thought about it. Kibum left because I'm a burden to his life, to his family. How could he allow his children to interact with a killer? It's all my fault. I could never help him, but I always expected him to help with my problems. The cuts got deeper and deeper and the pile of blood was dripping harder than ever before. My silent tears stung my wounds as they landed upon them.

Never have I felt such emotional pain. Usually, it would be defeated with the physical pain that the blade left on my skin, but this time, it's different. I'll never be able to get over this pain. I held the blade tightly and slowly sliced deeply into my wrist, causing blood to gush out this time, leaving me with a pain undescrible, but yet could not even compare to the emotional pain that I'm having right now. I looked at my slashed wrist that laid effortlessly on the floor, my eyes slowly closing and my breath quickening. I cried harder, my tears mixing in with the red blood that's drenching the floor.

I guess what happened next was someone taking me to the emergency room because I woke up with needles and tubes stuck into my body.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" a stranger asked me.

"Because...who would care if I wasn't here?" I asked, my eyes drooping.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"What doesn't make me say that?" I asked, my eyes lazily focusing on the tiles on the floor.

"I'm Dr Park. I'm a specialized psychologist that may know abit about depression. The doctors here asked me to come after seeing you have self harmed and intoxicating yourself with high amounts of alcohol. So...did you want to talk?" he asked calmly, sitting down.

"No." I said.

"It's alright if you don't wanna talk about, but I'm just saying, it's better to have someone to talk it out to."

"What if that person left?" I asked.

"Then you have to find a new person." he said, smiling brightly.

"What if you can't? Should you go find them?" I asked.

"if that makes you happy, then yes. I suppose."

"What if it doesnt?" I asked.

"Then you just have to move on. There will be those who stay and those who go." he asid.

"Then why can't I go?" I asked, leaving the professor in shock and wonder as he tries to answer.

"Tha-that's enough for today. i'll come speak you to tomorrow when you've recovered slightly." he said, taking his notes and pens with him.

I turned to look out the window to see the clear sky. 

I miss you dearly, and I wish there was a way I could just see even a glimpse of you again.

It's comforting to know that at least we're under the same sky.

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a/n: ok so basically...i lost a friend, and i just, my feelings are a bit everywhere, just hope they come back, so if this chapter is random and weird and eveerything..

im so sorry

i just had to write it out before i go crazy