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Waking up was a completely different story. The warmth, the feeling of comfort, the loving embrace, the peacefulness, all gone in the second it takes to open an eye. I should be used to this shouldn't  I? Knowing that in the morning you will realize where you ended up, who had scrapped you up off the ground, who tended to your fresh wounds, and who cared enough to help. Its the same cycle isn't it? You hopelessly trying to get over that idiotic ex-boyfriend who everyone, including you, knew wouldn't love you right. Me finding you outside the bar in tears because the bartender finally cut you off and said that you where causing a disturbance with the angry yelling you desperately needed to get off your chest about said ex-boyfriends having an ever so small . So back to my ty apartment we walk, my arm around your waist making sure you don't topple over at any second, your arm lazily slung over my shoulder for the minimum of evening out all your dead weight. Finally reaching my door, after the awkward elevator ride in complete silence, you always breakdown three steps into the small apartment. Me being the idiot that is Min Yoongi, I go over to try and console your hopelessly broken heart with a simple hug that turns into you weeping into my chest while your tears stain my shirt. Your sobs are wrecking through your body as we make our way to my bedroom. A tad untidy but it always suffices just enough to console a drunk amd heartbroken Park Jimin. Then we lay there in my twins sized bed until you finally stop crying, until you finally stop shaking, until your heart beats finally become less eradicate, until everything is finally calm. But theres always the voice in the back of my head telling me whats gonna happen the next day when I wake up. I always think of what is happening right now before we drift off into that beautiful slumber.  The feeling of yet again be unneeded, being unnecessary, being used. Sure, it help the kid regain his emotional and physical strength but what more? He won't remember all the reassuring words I said to him. He won't remember all the sweet nothings whispered into his ears. He won't remember the blissfulness. He won't remember the tender moments we had. He won't remember the heart felt conversations through the tears. He won't remember. The only thing he will remember is to text me a quick "thank you" as he gathers his things and walks out the front door careful to not wake me up. Maybe he remembers the events of the night before. Maybe he remembers to forget.