DEAR JIMIN.

0.1

Yoongi kept his love alive in his thoughts, unvoiced feelings swirling, teeming around only in the tiny capacity of his heart, never quite rewarded with the satisfaction of extravasating, nor the reciprocations he seeked in the most vivid of dreams. Too alive, he thought, too lively and vigorous; of this, Yoongi was too aware.

Perhaps it would carry on for as long as he dared to live, until the day he took his last breath, or perhaps only until the day Yoongi realized the hopelessness of flying with a broken wing.

Until then, he'd stand strong and refuse to succumb to the bitterness concoursing in his stomach at the pungent sight of the love of his life so deeply infatuated with someone who was not him.

Yoongi didn't actually have anything against the girl; Hyerin, her name was - they had met in their second year of highschool, when Jimin introduced them to each other with eyes glossed over with glee, nothing short of exhilarated at the two finally interacting. Jimin himself hadn't known much about Hyerin at the time, just that she took notes diligently and didn't like being bothered with negligible chatter that could easily be avoided. All Yoongi knew about Hyerin was that the boy who gave him butterflies was heads over heels in love with her. That was enough to spark a disliking towards her; the flame was only fed when Yoongi realized he didn't have a feasible reason to detest her. In his mind, he erroneously accused her of being competition, but there was really nothing for Hyerin to rival with when it was quite obvious that Jimin would not look at Yoongi in any way that wasn't friendly.

Yoongi huffed as he snapped back to reality, eyes feasting on the sight of Jimin holding Hyerin so closely, hands clasped gently around her dainty waist, an obvious affection swimming in their eyes as Jimin sighed lovingly. Yoongi couldn't help but ponder on what it would be like to be the one in Jimin's arms, rather than the one watching someone else in that position. It wasn't quite suiting. A flawless man like Jimin deserved a flawless woman like Hyerin; not a bitter best friend who couldn't find it in himself to overcome a highschool crush.

Yoongi yearned to speak, words caught on the tip of his tongue, swirling around in his head like a song on repeat, over and over again until he wanted nothing less than to end it all. He felt as though the last time he'd had a proper conversation with Jimin was months prior, like their once endless chatter had degraded to occasional mandatory speaking, like 'pass me the salt' or 'good morning.' It wasn't Jimin's fault, though. Though perhaps he could be blamed for being dense and oblivious to not notice Yoongi's change in attitude, in the end, it had been Yoongi's decision to limit their talking in fear that one day, he would burst, like a volcano's imminent eruption. One day, the words would spill out of him, flowing like a river until it reached Jimin's ears - "I'm in love with you. I've always loved you. I've never stopped loving you."

But Yoongi refused to taint Jimin's heart with such words, not when the latter watched his girlfriend with such fondness that Yoongi couldn't help but be envious. He was always struck with a jealousy towards the reciever of Jimin's affections. It never seemed to be him.

In fact, Yoongi had spent his entire life watching Jimin fall in love with everyone but him.

Jimin fell in love a bit carelessly. He was a strong believer of love at first sight, but worse than that, Jimin was the kind of person who fell in love simply because. If someone held a door for him, he fell in love. If someone helped him up when he tripped, he fell in love. If someone lent him a pencil, he fell in love. Those short-lived infatuations oftentimes left him broken-hearted and upset, and Yoongi was frequently Jimin's main source of comfort afterwards. ("I just... I really thought it was real." "I know, Jimin. I'm sorry.")

That was Yoongi's job, though. It had always been. He was to comfort Jimin in times of distress, not to mourn in disappointment when it turned out that - surprise - self proclaimed heterosexual Park Jimin was actually a heterosexual and was widely interested in his long term girlfriend.

Yoongi laughed half-heartedly at his own attempts at humoring himself; though pointing out the obvious wasn't considered funny, and he didn't really laugh, it was more of an airy huff of defeat. He wanted Jimin, and he wanted him badly; it wasn't helping that Jimin was in love with someone else.

He shot one more longing stare towards Jimin and Hyerin and inhaled sharply, running a wet tongue across his dry lips before abruptly standing up and excusing himself. It went unnoticed by the couple in front of him, too infatuated with each other to notice that he had left, much less that Yoongi was even there in the first place.

Yoongi traveled up the stairs quietly, a deep aching in his stomach that could only be described as pent-up bitterness. He wasn't happy. It didn't bring him joy knowing that Jimin was finally in love with someone who would love him back, it didn't wash over him like a great wave of relief knowing that someone other than him was making Jimin smile. The sincere connection between Jimin and Hyerin wasn't enough to prevent Yoongi from becoming the selfish person he was. That was how he adapted to living in a selfish world; he became selfish himself, and he had no qualms about it.

As he sunk down to the dark wooden floor, he criticized every action that had led him to his unfortunate present. Throughout his lifetime, he had watched many people confess; he watched people get accepted, he watched people get rejected, he watched people lose, strengthen and make new friendships, but Yoongi wasn't brave like his classmates were. Yoongi was a coward, hiding behind his own wall of deceit, because maybe if he tried harder, Jimin would love him. Maybe if he stuck around for long enough, Jimin would realize his feelings and come running. But he was not Hyerin, and he could not make Jimin happy.

From his spot on the bedroom floor, the cardboard box under the aging bed was within his reach, but hardly. Gently, he kicked the box towards him, accidentally denting the side, but in his fit of unreleased anger, he couldn't bring himself to care. He ran his fingers across the tape, unfolding the top and skimming through the forgotten contents, leaving lines in the dust where his nails scratched. He made a half-hearted effort to untangle the intertwined chains and beads of necklaces from friends he had drifted apart from, little gifts that used to hold much more significance to him than he could remember. Above all, he had grown away from most of his friends, but Jimin, he had stayed with through it all. Even if Jimin didn't love him, Yoongi could never leave him. He just couldn't.

His fingertips ghosted past the cover of a leather-bound notebook, and unlike the rest of the miscellaneous knick-knacks with lost significance, the importance of the plain notebook had rushed into his head almost immediately.

He smiled.

Running his fingers along the yellowed book, he flipped it open to the first ink-stained page, immediately recognizing the handwriting - high school had ruined his ability to print nicely - that honestly resembled a strange cross between a spider and a chicken. Jimin had always told him, with a scrunched up nose and pouty lips, that his writing was impossible to read, a fond memory that he could never quite forget. The cover felt familiar underneath his fingertips, recognizing the tiny dips and ridges that he had become so accustomed to in the past.

Yoongi knew.

October 10, 2013

Dear Jimin,

I know you're not reading this - you probably never will, actually, but I hear writing things down is a good way to get it off your mind, so I might as well take a shot at it.

How are you? You looked upset today, but you wouldn't tell me why. I'm sorry if it's because of me. It's been worrying me. It's okay to talk to me. I'll listen. You need to stop bottling up your emotions; it'll come back to bite you. Things are different when you're not there to smile and make everything better. When you're upset, it worries everyone.

Maybe you found out. Your girlfriend was cheating on you, Sojin - from the very beginning. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to make you even more upset; it seemed like you really liked her. I'm sorry it didn't work out. Whenever you talked about her, there would be this distinct happiness in your eyes. You were always so hopeful, but it seemed as though you really thought it would be forever. I'm sorry it wasn't. It's okay, though. I'll be with you forever, even if the way you smiled so gleefully whenever you talked about your ex-girlfriends really does hurt me.

It kind of makes me wish that you had that spark of love in your eyes when you talked about me, too.