Lovesick Girls (Blackpink)

3| born to be wild

rosie sniffled, wiping her eyes with her flannel sleeve. the night was chilly and she hadn't taken into consideration that it was no longer summer when she blindly rushed out of her apartment earlier.

but she had felt so suffocated, like all the walls were closing in on her, that she just hadn't spared a thought. she needed air.

she walked and walked in a daze, hobbling and shuffling as she carried her heavy heart like ball and chains shackled to her ankles. the distraught girl came upon an empty bench and sat down, holding her head.

her heart cried out for the soft lanky boy who painted the walls of her (their) apartment pink, who played karaoke with her on a yellow electric guitar, who watered the various potted plants rosie bought and named, who wrapped rosie up in a knitted blanket and made them mugs of hot tea as they sat and watched the summer rain patter against the window.

"isn't this cosy?" rosie asked as she leaned against him, breathing in his scent.

"mhm," he would reply.

it was all going so perfect, or at least rosie thought.

she would have been quite content to wake up next to him on mornings, snuggled under his arm, for the rest of her life. she had even been thinking of expanding their little family unit and introducing a kitten or a puppy as well.

but her fairy tale plans crashed to the ground when one day, he sat them down for a serious talk and gently told her that they ought to go their separate ways.

"you're the most caring, compassionate and sweetest girl i ever met," he said softly, stroking her hand, "but...you're too safe."

she blinked.

"you're not the adventurous type," he explained. "you don't take risks, you have probably never broken a single rule in your life and you always have been travelling along the straight and narrow. and those are all magnificent qualities to have and i admire you a lot for that. it's just...i'm a bit like that too and umm....it gets...boring. stagnant. repetitive. don't you feel it?"

rosie was speechless, his words carving out her heart like a halloween pumpkin.

"we're too alike," he concluded, stroking her knuckles with his brow furrowed, "i'm not a risk taker either, but i feel like this time, i should take a risk and....find out more of what's out there in the world. you should do it too. we both need to grow beyond our comfort zones, individually and apart from each other. otherwise, we'll be stuck together and slowly turn unhappy and start to hate each other. i don't want to reach that point when it's too late. don't you agree?"

perhaps what always struck her most about her boy was his articulate way of expressing both their feelings.

because he was right. she just was too comfortable to admit it.

though she was content to wake up and snuggle against him, rosie wasn't exactly what you'd call ecstatic with her lot.

certainly, she was comfortable. perhaps too comfortable.

there was a certain degree of comfort that brought one happiness and peace of mind. but extend this period of tranquil bliss for long enough and soon ennui starts to creep in like a poison that corrupts even the most idyllic of relationships.

they had their last hug, and he left with a few of his belongings.

except the yellow guitar she had gifted him—after he left, rosie snapped out of her daze and smashed it to pieces, her first victim.

next to go were the pink walls—they weren't even baby pink walls anyway—buckets of black paint splattered on the surface as she threw them with all her might, bawling her lungs out. she wondered if the neighbours downstairs heard her.