Memoirs of the Lost Loser

Giving Up and Giving Way

"Sam," his voice is hoarse, exhausted beyond comprehension. His lips move painfully as they are chapped and bled. Levi's mouth carved words that you can't understand. You try reading his lips, but they quivered so much you can't do it too.

Your heart, however, reacts in a way that didn't need words.

Maybe that is why this dream deliberately muted him, and all that remains is the thumping of the titans' approaching steps.

It knows you will never be able to take it.

You jerked awake, the unpleasant throbbing in your temples followed short after. The daylight came too bright, it only added gas to the fire that is your heartbreak 'hangover'. Your dream just a few minutes ago is another matter to add on the list of the things you need to overthink.

You couldn't recall most of the details in your dream, but the heavy feeling lingered in your chest. You're spent just feeling the way you do because of that dream. Whatever that was, you're glad it was nothing but a dream. You can shrug your shoulders and go on with the list of things you still need to do especially when the soldiers come back from their most precious day-off.

Petra let herself in the room you shared with four people. She must've spent her entire morning pampering herself, her skin glistened at the soft hits of the sun.

"What happened to you?" She asked about the crying, but she herself had eyes that looked like fish with a popeye disease.

Now that you think about it, your eyes feel sore, you can feel them squint involuntarily by how bulging they must've looked.

"I could ask the same about you." You sat upright in your bunk, letting yourself adjust from this position before you stand. Petra looked through you in the vanity mirror. You should've perceived her mood as happy and glowing, only if it weren't for her eyes that said she too, cried all night.

"Should I pin it on the side, or should I put it in a half-bun? Or go for a low ponytail? I feel like that's a trend nowadays." She deflected, examining her angles in the mirror of how she looked in each hairstyle she mentioned.

Last night, you went into the mess hall with your usual clothes. You could tell that Petra was kinda disappointed when she saw you. Petra and Nifa were the only people whom you can tell put a lot of effort to look gorgeous for the soldiers' dinner.

Nanaba was in a loose dress layered with another loose-fitting pullover to combat the cold-biting air. Probably to hide her pregnancy growing everyday. You wondered if Miche finally caught in, or he still thinks she's only gaining weight.

You somehow managed to calm your thoughts that night. You couldn't possibly kill people because you got a big crush on someone. Like a sane, barely functioning adult, you managed your emotions from seeping out so that the internal turmoil didn't leak and run over your cheeks.

You could feel a watchful pair of eyes on you from a distance, but you didn't dare meet them. You knew whom it belonged to. Forget about meeting Levi in the late afterparty— he's betrothed! You're all chummy in the kitchen and shamelessly eye-fucking everywhere in the headquarters so you're basically flirting with the man whom Petra was destined to get married to.

You will never do that to a friend. Especially when Petra had been good and accepting of you.

You ate your portion in silence, keeping your eyes down on the food while listening to the grumbles of soldiers about their wives, or the good news of an added member of their families. You nodded and added some input when asked, giving neutral answers and half-lies to make sure there were no follow up conversations and you're left alone with the role of a listener in the group. You made sure to stick with more people even when you didn't like it. It lessens the chances of Levi approaching you, guessing he'll only do so when you're alone.