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Pills
What are memories? Do they pass by or do they stay locked deep in someone's heart to make them smile–or possibly become miserable?
Life was always a deep, provoking mystery to Yifan. He remembered the warmth in his arms of the beautiful, fragile and shy boy that always returned to him for guidance. He never failed in consoling the lost soul and always aided him. He reminisced how wonderful the boy's voice sounded ringing in his ears, a pleasant tone of happiness was a pleasure. He wondered what it would feel like just pressing his lips to his again, tasting him as if he was the frappucino he purchased every week.
Yifan always made an effort to make a visit to Starbucks weekly, even though doing so brought back so many memories that plagued him. He ordered a frappucino, 'Zitao always used to order this. He proclaimed it his favourite designer coffee of the month.' Yifan blankly stared at his cup, slightly tearing up and subtly smiling. He went through the haunting texts of his phone. All the conversations they had always lasted for more than a day. Then by the last few month ago's mark, the conversation's life ended. It was an abrupt stop in communication. Yifan wondered if Zitao was still around, breathing and eating and with someone else that deserved him. Yifan didn't deserve him. He felt as if he was nothing compared to the vociferously fragile yet strong teenager. 'Who would deserve a man like me? I'm nothing special, I don't have enough to give to anyone.'
He left before the intruding thoughts began to shake his emotional state. He hasn't had a peaceful night since the day the person who meant his whole life to him, left him–vanished like a speck of dust flying through the fluidity of the wind. He shook his head, "I mustn't let these feelings return... Mustn't...it hurts," Yifan clutched his chest, leaning back against the cold, barren stoned alley wall. He slept restless nights, with no space filled next to him to embrace and wake up to. He felt truly lonely; no one could make Yifan laugh or smile ever since, not one bit. He had a blank face every single time even if someone cracked a lame, pathetic or satirical joke. He still had the poker face.
He tried to object his own thoughts, yet useless to try the memories he treasured flashed like a bolt in his mind. His heart abnormally started to clench, aching and Yifan's breathing hitched as his anxiety grew. The pain of yesterday returned like thunder.
"Oh how much I miss you Zitao..." He called out. He yearned for a familiar voice to respond, there was nothing. He wanted the comfort. He desired the beautiful, heart-fluttering kisses, the intertwine of their fingers, their passionate connection of their bodies and souls, the everything they shared for two years. Now it has felt like it ended so quickly and the history was erased by a delete button pressed. He needed Zitao, and as much as he wanted to see Zitao and hear the boy's voice yet once more, he couldn't. Zitao was forever to be gone, untraceable by Yifan's grasp. What has he done wrong to lose such a precious soul as Zitao?
All he wanted was him. And there couldn't be him, no, it was inexorable. He stooped to his knees, anxiety and guilt for not fighting what he loves seethed in his body and heart. He felt so incomplete, alone, not himself, empty, dull, wasteful, bashful; the list could go on. He scarcely spoke, only if needed. He wondered if he developed some sort of depression—that was it, probably. Thinking of him brought him to mania. He just wanted Zitao back to him, to the way they were before: happy, confident, free and nothing was wrong. Nothing was ever wrong until Yifan was bursting at him (even if he didn't mean it and apologized several times,) causing the hypersensitive boy to burst into tears, retaliating and leaving out the next day. Guilty.
Next step, his mouth was trembling and his yearnings returned. He didn't sleep. He didn't care whether he couldn't concentrate at work or at all. He didn't care whether he'd get scowled for falling asleep in middle of a busy work day. Nothing mattered to him anymore, only Zitao has brought a meaning to life.
A trickle of tears exited his eyes, brutally escaping him. He thought it would be okay to cry again, it gave him a release. He cried himself to sleep every night—if he contemplated in sleeping. He has seemed help by a psychologist, a therapist, anyone who'd be specialized in these problems. Nothing helped. The growing insanity remained.
One day, he's stopped coming to work all together. What a waste of his time to work, if life was already losing its meaning it once had. Nothing was ever going right, Yifan knew that. Without Zitao in his arms, what would be a purpose to live? All he did was live alone, work, eat and sleep. He stayed in his bed, worrying and sobbing until he felt excessively fatigued.
Then he stopped eating, living off of water. He became fatally thinner and thinner by each passing day, millions of missed calls left on his cellphone by his co-workers and boss. He said he was alright, everything was fine. A lie. He left a note, on his table and sent a text to everyone he knew—"I know this might be hard on you all. I can't take this empty, harsh life anymore. You won't see my presence around any longer. I'll be dead by tomorrow morning...Please do forget me, if you can," he even regretted sending Zitao the same text. He let his tears stifle more and he was really going to push himself to do such an inhumane thing to himself. He put his favourite panda t-shirt Zitao bought for his birthday even though he's protested that the boy should've wore it, nonetheless he also put on the best pair of piercings they had, usually matching and wristbands, necklace and rings. It hurt so deeply inside to finally conclude his decision. He wasn't going to waste no more time.
Tonight was going to be the last time anyone knows of Yifan's presence.
He took a deep breath, striding towards the medicine cabinet, carefully scanning the labels. He found aspirin, and took it out carefully. He gulped, knowing what he was going to do. He wrote on a piece of paper, 'I loved with all my heart Zitao. Let my heart rise with me," and taped it to the wall. He sat on the edge of the bed, anxious and paranoid. He popped the first pill in his mouth, gulping it with the water, knowing nothing will happen yet.
The next pill made its way down his throat, a lump forming in guilt and fear.
Then the next, making him mumble his love for Zitao nervously.
The other, then the other...It made him grow manic and restless, fidgeting slightly.
The array of pills now dissolved in his stomach was taking affect. He was twitching, slightly jerking and a sharp, tingling pain arose in his stomach and arms. He laid back on the bed, tears overflowing his eyes. He sang with a pained voice.
'My love, I knew you wouldn't understand; this love wasn't like the others; In this deep pain; I'm alright; You won't find me tonight; I'll be lost in my fears; And I'll be gone; Before my soul before you even appears," he finished. His vision was blurring, the overdose was slowly drawing to its full affect. He moaned, his throat was too dry for him to vomit. He was dizzy, shakes violently and his eyes were drooping. He could slowly see the light, guiding him to somewhere safer, somewhere where he'd see Zitao's soul in the future. His eyes closed. He felt the weight drift off his shoulders, becoming free as a bird. The pain dissolved–nothing felt so better since the time he spent with Zitao. He didn't know he would return. Never did he, until the time he would leave the world.
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Zitao was working hard as a tutor for the youth in high school. It earned him quite a decent amount of money for a living. He always had an ambition to stay strong and be determined. He remembered the times he had with Yifan, the person who's meant so much to him. Why did he leave him like that? He's pretty sure he's hurt Yifan so badly, that he should've returned to reconcile with him earlier. They stopped contact. Zitao reckoned it would hurt less if he stopped talking to him. Guess not. It hurt everyday, pain growing bluntly. He couldn't fall asleep from the anxiety.
All he wanted was to be free of this useless trouble. Yet he wasn't foolish enough to take away his own life. He knew life had a purpose, even though he had no significance as he lost the one he loved so truly. He just wanted a perfect life.
He had the urges to call Yifan and tell him everything was going to be fine, that he was there. He wasn't there, he was the one that deliberately escaped from Yifan's reach. Now he felt so damn bad, it pierced his heart like a shard of glass. He wondered how Yifan was feeling, what was he doing. How was he without him. Zitao felt horrible without Yifan, yet free. Two wrongs never make a right.
Then the first time of his life, where Zitao was given the greatest shock. He never wanted to read the text. He didn't want to even acknowledge it. He felt like throwing things, slamming the door and cutting himself with a razor through the intense ache. He read the unexpected text Yifan sent to him and everyone else. Zitao stared blankly. He was shocked and worried, yes, but he couldn't bring himself to wail. Few tears came out yet his throat was developing a large lump and was getting dry so he couldn't speak but croak. He immediately dashed out the door, taking a bus to Yifan's apartment. He knocked on the door. No answers and it made him nervous.
"Y-Yifan?" He whimpered. Silence. Ambivalence.
He then forced himself to knock down the door, slowly creeping to Yifan's room and his heart exploded. He screamed and wailed. There his old love was, skin clammy and blue, eyes fluttered closed. He read the sigh on his wall and immensely sobbed on Yifan's now limp, lifeless body.
"This is not the reality I wanted...I'm horrible. I love you Yifan! Now you left me...I deserve this."
He couldn't bring Yifan back, he checked his pulse and there was no spark of hope left. Yifan was never to return. He leaned over, tearing still streaming down his face and placed a soulful kiss to the dead Yifan beneath him. He fell to the floor, wailing. He called the emergency services even if there wasn't a point. He just felt like his heart twisted and demented. He never knew Yifan ever had such suicidal thoughts and because of him. He fainted before the paramedics could arrive.
In the hospital, attached to an IV, feeling alone, is this how Yifan felt? Constrained? Hurt? Isolated? Empty? Zitao was extremely guilty for being so careless of the older's feelings. Yifan was officially proclaimed dead. It was ruled as a suicide. The word suicide penetrated his heart with a dagger–it was a danger to his own mental health. There was no more Yifan, and this time permanently. He spent the rest of his year doing therapy. Maybe one remnant of his memories remained of the wonderful man Wu Yifan—that he has loved him more than himself, than anything. And he'd never forget what mistake he's made that poisoned Yifan's pure soul from inside out.
He was sorry.
He was lost.
And he wish that Yifan could've been found.
Before he even could do such a thing...as ending your own life.
But as for all Zitao will know, he'll never love anyone the way he's truly loved Yifan. No one could compare to the deep level of understanding and friendship they had until they've gotten so passionately in love with each other.
First loves are never easy to forget; they're always there. And will be the most painful to remember.
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A/N - My heart clenches every time I read this T.T lol
hoped you enjoyed it
@GreenaJayy- Thanks for supporting me bb <3
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