Every morning I will always do the same; waking up and opening the window with a faint ‘Hello’. Then I will see you walking down the street with your earphone on. After that, you’ll be greeted by some passerby or acquaintances while I’ll be eyeing you and whispering a faint ‘How are you?’.

Jealousy is all I feel in the morning every time I see you. I am so jealous that someone—you—can be loved by all, while I'm just sitting here, looking at you pathetically. When I can no longer see you, I’ll be back to my bed, curling up to a ball, and yawn. I’ll close my eyes and about to drift back to dreamland—to where nice things happen—when my tears will start to fall. I will bury my face on the pillow—wiping it in order to hide my tear marks and I’ll tell myself, “No, I’m not crying.”

 

I started to do that routine since that time—that spring—when we talked on the hall way. The line from that time went straight to my head every time I remember it.

“I don’t have any expectations of you anymore.”

That was what I said back then. Funny, because even I don’t have any expectations of myself. And every time that scene replays in my head, I will say, “Oh, well. Whatever.”

And that has become my favorite phrase.

 

The words that escaped my throat since then were nothing but lies. I always say something that was supposed to be the opposite. I always ended up hiding it—my true feelings. I don’t even know why. Is it because I’m scared of being laughed at? Or is it because I don’t want to meet you? Is that really true? I don’t even know.

I feel so weak. I’m the one who throws me into this misery—yet, I feel like what I’ve done is too much for myself. It’s drowning me and I’m starting to suffer because I can no longer breathe because of it.

 

I’m starting to ignore your existence. I know it will only drowning me deeper in the sea of regret, but it’s actually just a reason so that I can rest from this situation. It is nonsense, true. But it is just something that I think about with my hazy head.

I know, I’m just saying things. That’s all.

 

Be I happy or miserable, the morning sun will rise fairly and cruelly. I’m already trying my best just to live without you—moving on from you. So, what else do you possibly expect from me?

I don’t understand, why do you ended up being bothered by this? Is it that you actually (still) want to be loved (by me)? Who was it that let go of your hand? (Me.)

Have you come to a realization? I’m no good for you. All I did—all I do, is only making the both of us miserable.

But no, you still want it. Want to be loved by this silly me.

 

I feel so weak again.

 

“Thank you.” is actually what I want to say to you. For caring, concerning, and loving (me). Also, for giving me a second chance. But somehow the word stuck in my throat and echoing inside my head. I curse my stubborn self. Even if just for once, while I lament from the bottom of my heart, I actually want to say “thank you”. But why is it so hard?

 

Even though I keep silent, you don’t force me.

Instead,

you hold my hands and stare straight to my eyes, ”Why are you end up hiding it—your true feeling?” you ask, full of concern, “Do you actually want me to ask you about it?”

The only answer to your question is simple; I just don’t want you to see this pathetic human being.

My heart starts to beat faster and my cheeks start to burn as you cup my face, caressing my cheekbones tenderly, “I promise that I will not laugh, so why don’t you try and tell me?” you smile softly, giving me your gentlest look.

“I won’t know anything if you don’t open your mouth.” you convinced me and my vision starts to get blurry upon hearing that. “You won’t convey anything by merely thinking in your head.” With that, I try my best to hold my tears.

Too bad I fail as I feel hot streams trailing down my cheeks. And I have to bite my lip to prevent any embarrassing sound coming out from my mouth.

I guess I must be looking very horrible since I hear you chuckling and pat my head softly, “What a troublesome species of organism you are.” you mumble before pulling me into a warm embrace. Coating this small me with that big body of yours.

*

 

His kindness is too much.

He gives me, who stupid enough to let an amazing person go with a stupid reason, a second chance.

He wants me, who stupid enough to break his heart, heal him.

He let me, who can’t even stay true to her feeling, receive his warm love.

*

I open my mouth as you caress my hair. I make up my mind. I tell myself; I’m strong. I try to believe in myself. Your warm and broad chest gives me strength. Finally, I can say it.

“Thank you, Chanyeol. I love you.”

 

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A/N

It is short. Haha