I Love You, Kevin

PROLOGUE

23rd of January 2020.

He suddenly chatted me out of nowhere. Unexpected. I never was expecting him to message me after what happened between the two of us. I never expect him to asked questions that would confuse me again and again. But I was wrong, he did.

I don't know exactly why he did that, but I'm certainly he's confuse of what I'm doing to him. As far as I can remember, I only confessed my feeling towards him three years ago. And now, it taunts me to either accept him or let him use me. I don't know, 'coz accepting him might be a twist of torturing myself again. I'm not sure anymore. If I love him still, or I'm just drunk from the idea of he got all my checklist. He got my standards for a person that I should love.

Now, it's not all that. The reason why I'm crazily in love with him is nothing to do with my checklist anymore, it is the uncontrollable feelings—love I feel inside my heart. Even though my brain knows what the end of all these dump and stupid decision I've will be made.

I don't know why I am still keeping this cycle. But the least I can think of is to be happy, even just for a short time. I mean, I deserve that, right?

I'm sick of this agony. I'm madly in love with him. No language, dialect, hand or body gestures could adequately express how much I adore him. But I doubt he notices or even looks at it. I have no idea what I did in my entire life to deserve this anguish, torture, and despair.

I don't get what's wrong with me to chose to let the pain decide my life. I deserve better. I deserve him. But it's impossible. There was no assurance for me from him, to at least give me something that I could hold on to it.

I am trying to get rid off of the pain. The feelings I have for him. I pity myself even more now. Every time I think of him, he reminds the pain he caused of me each single time I wish I can't think of him. These are the reason I want it badly, to stop the pain . . . to stop loving him.

. . . The reason why I am writing this. This is my coping mechanism.