kim jongin was my drug, not the type that you hold between your fingers and call a prolonged death and end up as a huge mess with hazy memory, but the type that cures you. that stops your skin and sanity from slipping away and rotting somewhere in hell. yes, jongin was my drug from the day he was born in 1994.
unfortunatly, although he was my cure, i was his death.

and although he is my favourite chocolate from any shop, i seemed to foget that an excessive intake of sugar leads to a shattering pain that cascaves from your lower jaw.
kim jongin is not the drug that heals me, no, he's the cheap medicine that you buy and swallow without reading the description, he is the rip-off that costs less than a bar of chocolate.
but still, kim jongin is mine.
he is my mistake, and i am his.

"yeojin, yeojin, hey."

"what do you want jongin?"

"i want you to kiss me, or do i really have to lie to my diary again?"

"you're the lamest thing in the world, you know."