——5 years ago
[–1st pov–]
I raised my hands to cover my face. "Stop it, please," I stated, "you're making me feel more embarrassed about it!" I mumbled through my hands, hiding myself behind. "It doesn't help at all."
It felt better to hide from him and the world.
Referring to it was beyond being flustered at that point. I didn't discover my reasoning until I began treatment for my mental health.
I felt the way my cheeks grew warm. I was considering how this paved a new fear of embarrassment.
All I wanted to do was sink beneath the ground and dig my grave.
"I, seriously—there are so many mistakes there, look," I sighed. This sounded silly from a more mature perspective, but I tried my best—as much as overachiving could describe it even.
It wasn't for anyone else but myself. I wanted to achieve higher things with my grades, and an average grade that made me barely pass with my grammar made my self-esteem worse.
When thinking about that story that was lying in the past. He only tried to convince me that I had done enough.
I tried and failed, but that's okay.
That's what makes us human. We try, and sometimes we fail, but giving up isn't an option.
I have been struggling to recognize it to this day. And sometimes, I still didn't know how to handle them.
When I stood there, in the music room filled with instruments, small and big, widely infamous and unknown. The stinging in my chest didn't stop or lessened. The concern in my mind produced strange irrational scenarios.
What made me maintain my stance in confidence was one person. He was the reason. It was comforting.
On days like these, he'd tease me like on any other day.
It would lighten up my mood and tidy my mindset.
The teal-haired male stood in front of me, "but it's the truth," he chirped. "You did everything you could."
I let a sigh slide over my lips. Scoffing as he smiled
at me. He was so sweet, genuinely trying to be bright, and I felt like the pessimistic one. I crossed my arms, frowning at him.
I didn't quite agree with him on this topic. I didn't think that I would've agreed with him even after years about this point.
"I will tell you for the last time." I repeated with a low chuckle, "It's not. I surely screwed that one up. Your compliments aren't helping." I sounded so calm, collected, and rational. My mind was chaotic, a collection of fear, irrationality, and agonizing thoughts. They kept racing in me, and I couldn't express anything other than pessimistic self-destructive comments.
I wasn't that agitated with myself usually or I hid it, but academics were different—they were incredibly important in that year.
I was aware that anything I could say in that moment would make me feel worse. I was my own problem and I didn't know how to deal with it.
As that was said, I tried to remain calm with any inch of control I had left in me. I despised to turn into an emotional mess and ruin both of our days. I despised to be that way in front of someone who only knew my "joking" and "gentle" side.
He and I were very aware of how the last exam in that language class we took was a disaster for my GPA.
He patted my back, laughing brightly. The sound of it made my heart flutter—and somewhat it was a relief? I didn't even know what I was thinking at that time.
The sensation inside of my chest was nice, I liked it. I never made a big deal out of the way he could easily comfort me or make me smile.
And yet, I'd never be able to bring out a word near his presence about the way I held adoration for him.
People could guess that it never led somewhere at that age. It was to be expected of two mentally ill teenagers who didn't know what they were doing. Proper communication about our romantic feelings was the last thing we focused on.
As we held the envelopes tight, we promised to open them together.
We waited for so long, and my heart was raging worse than when I received my graduation exam. The graduation party would come soon enough, but now it was being accepted or not. And how fate wanted him and me to open the letters we'd gotten from our dream colleges together.
"Okay.." he said, turning to me, "On 3." he smiled.
"..1.." I started.
"..2.." he continued.
"..3.." Both of us said opening the letter at once.
The sounds of paper being unfolded echoed quietly in the room. This piece was withholding my future for a good part. My heart skipped a beat, and my mind grew dizzy and wild of imagination at the thought of failure.
As soon as I opened the envelope. I was greeted with the white formal papers. I read carefully through the letter. I was trying not to read between the words and their lines and concentrated on the whole text.
"Dear Y/n L/n.. we're happy to announce.. that you've been accepted to Sumeru Academy!" I read out loud—in shock—as my heart was still raging. I felt like not regaining my balance at all.
All I knew was that my body was shaking with adrenaline. I almost couldn't hold the letter, I nearly dropped it when I found out I was accepted to my dream college. All the hard work had paid off.
The effort was worth it.
My eyes flickered away from the letter and right away on my friend.
The silence and the missing joy from his side were unsettling.
I was having an unpleasant feeling about the situation. "You've been so quiet.. how's yours?" I asked him.
He didn't look at me. I let my eyes wander over to him after reading my result. He averted any contact like I did earlier.
I recognized that look. His eyes weren't filled with joy—there was no sparkle, it was despair.
I hated this expression, I knew too well that he was going to devour this in himself. He didn't even dare to look at me—he was too ashamed.
"I.." he began, but he paused before he could nearly finish.
I narrowed my eyes at him. My heart pounded in my chest. His voice was so quiet with a hint of devastation, "..nothing too important, just some bad news for the newcomers." He said, smiling quickly, placing his joyful masked personality on himself.
I sensed right away something was off, but I knew when to leave him alone. Sometimes, it was better not to ask, and he wasn't as interested in expressing the unasked matters. If he wasn't ready to talk—that was fine. It wasn't his obligation to share anything like that. It was his thing, after all, and I respected his coping mechanisms.
He was a mystery to me. Even as his best friend, I was never quite sure what he was thinking or feeling.
After that afternoon in the music room, he wasn't the same. didn't feel like the same person. I was always on edge around him. There wasn't a chance to talk to him, and he'd disappear soon as class ended, no longer sitting beside me anymore and staying quiet.
Over the next weeks, he grew even more distant in general, which stung. If I was honest, my selfish thoughts were screaming at me to stop being sympathetic.
I doubted whether or not he hated me now.
My heart wrenched together feeling like multiple torns were drilling through and slashing this fragile thing. As if they were sinking in deeper every time I found sight of him. I didn't think it would affect him so much at first. He usually hid it. I knew it was important, but I didn't know he had such a deep connection to it. There was something wrong, I just hadn't figured out what it was yet specifically.
The next time I approached him, I made sure he couldn't escape. I wanted to have finally—a clear answer to what he desired. I didn't want to stay in this current position of being a witness to him avoiding me. At least not without giving me a reason or an explanation.
I would have preferred it if I didn't have to confront him like that and take his chances of collecting his thoughts to come and talk to me from his own motivation.
He ignored me, and I wanted an answer, I gave him enough space.
I was done waiting.
I sounded like an asshole back then maybe, but I had my right to an answer when he left me guessing without a word and ignored me.
As soon as he came into my sight. I shot my attempt into the void for one last try—hoping something wasn't at least gonna land completely there.
"Hello!" I exclaimed with a smile gracing my lips. I looked at him and waved.
When he heard my voice, his steps found themselves faster than before. I sighed, my heart sunk, I didn't want to give up, but maybe it was better. I couldn't remember when we last exchanged words in the past weeks.
The first thing that came to my mind was, 'Not again. He's ghosting me in real time now for weeks. I'm so done... There's no way I could be paid enough for this if this were a TV show with that plot. This is challenging my patience. What kind of game to test my patience is this?'
I began to feel frustrated — but I still wanted to leave him his space. However, since it had been going on for a while so I just wanted a couple of clarifying words.
And just like that, another day decided to pass thanks to him fleeing from his problems. I would love to keep a long-lasting patience, but I've felt like having finally enough.
As I laid on my bed staring at the huge white ceiling, there was no difference. It didn't make anything better.
Nothing at all changed other than his misery and my luck. I wanted to scream in my pillow. The whole situation left me restless, and I despised it.
I tried to get some time off my mind and reached hands my fingertips to the corners of the phone.
I laid my eyes on the screen.
I frowned upon one notification as soon as I opened my phone. Brighter than ever, it showed me the first words in a while he'd speak to me.
Messenger !
< | windborn boy<3
windborn boy<3
Can we talk tomorrow after school?
flower<3
..sure.
not like you didn't say anything for almost 1 and a half weeks 🖕. message erased
After reading that message, I decided to put my phone away. I put it back I'm place and finally went to bed. My soft blanket was keeping me comfortable.
The monster that plagued me since I was young, called "anxiety," had to come beforehand, though. To ensure I didn't have a peaceful time while trying to enter my rest.
Before I was able to sleep—the positive thoughts fled my mind single-handedly. I felt overwhelmed by the possible outcomes of everything negative haunting me.
The darkness consumed me and my sanity slowly. It felt as if there was some intruder in my mind that made me turn again and again.
From night to night, it was there.
Compared to other nights, I came to rest pretty late. Usually, walking through this chaotic process would've stopped around 2:30am.
At its worst.
This time, when I took a last glance at the clock, before my eyes shut, it was past 3:15 am. My body was strained and barely moved, yet my mind had kept me up. My heart was pounding strongly, and all aj could finish was turning rapidly in my bed. I can't recall when it happened, but at some point, I fell asleep.
The sun rose and shined through my curtains, I woke up with an awful headache. My brain felt like it was number more than usual. The wheels wouldn't turn properly, and everything was hazy.
My mother had decided by the means of it to make me stay home. As soon as she noticed there was a fever adding to my sickness—it was final; I'd be stuck at home for the day, at least.
She said that even for me, I was looking awful, in a joking way. It was no secret that I battled with dark circles under my eyes, yawned regularly, and tried not to fall off my chair on the worst days.
Her intentions weren't bad. After all, I agreed and chuckled at the joke. She wasn't wrong, though. She knew about the sleeping difficulties I faced. It ran into the family.
Damn the insomnia.
And there was a clear line between looking average sleep-deprived and utterly awful from exhaustion.
I took my time, with gratefulness towards my mother, and went off to prepare to take another nap. I took my phone out and opened my messenger app.
Messenger !
< | windborn boy<3
flower<3
yo, I won't come today.
at home with a fever and headache from being sleep-deprived since our distance keeps me up at night
not send !
windborn boy<3
Oh.. I'm sorry to hear that. I hope nothing bad happened :(
What this boy didn't know was that unbeknownst to him, that message wasn't sent. In the middle of sending it as an explanation, the darkness overcame the physical strength of the body from the girl.
Hours later, I woke up from my phone making noises. The sleep was quite paying itself out since my eyes weren't dry, and my body felt less heavy to manage.
My headache has turned out to vanish faster than previously expected. Not fully, but at its most—the fever was still present, but a minor issue.
As I held my phone, I felt it vibrating. It was a weird occasion indeed, since someone called which was him.
I accepted right away and held the speaker to my ear.
Silence...
It was one of a kind.
I could hear my breath. Heavy and caught up in my throat. I tapped my fingers in an uneven rhythm on the counter. With impatience, I waited for a word. For my heart, the feeling was awful.
"I didn't get accepted.. and it would've taken me only one better grade. That's what I'm upset about!" was the first thing that I heard. A voice that sounded deeply upset and disappointed.
"I'm sorry for keeping quiet this long, I struggled to process it myself," he mumbled over the call. I didn't know what to say. I was speechless and robbed of my advanced functionality.
My heart sank immediately. I didn't know what to do.. what should I do? What was there to say?
"No... it's okay." I choked out.
I kept on losing my words physically when I almost stuttered again. My mind ran on emergency reserves once again, just like minutes before.
A pause followed with powerful words. Those weigh so much in the aftermath. "You've wasted your time with me. It was all useless," he said then, putting the blame all on him, which made my heart sick. It sank deeper with every word.
"No, it's alright—" I tried to begin and convince, but I was cut off seconds later; "No, it's not alright were gonna lose contact— and after we separate we'll slowly distance— and then-, then I'm gonna be lonely without you. We'll stop being friends, I know it." He said, ending his sentence filled with fear.
"... Don't... don't say that..." I whispered.
His abandonment issues were something I kept in mind. They were very real, and I understood him, I feared people would hate me too much to converse with me sometimes. It was draining to fight those thoughts, and I always reassured him, yet this once I wasn't sure whether I could tell the truth or not. I wanted to convince myself because, desperately, I wanted to tell the truth.
And that made me silent, I wanted to say anything to him, to reassure him that that wouldn't be the case. But I couldn't, since I was sure— no I knew; It would be might as well a lie. We'd like—no, love to keep up. It's more like a promise we wouldn't be able to maintain if something like a minor inconvenience would break us apart.
It was unsettling, but our main contact used to root from
I understood what he meant. We were always used to being able to see each other. Which was why the sudden switch could end by losing the means to contact a person, from the address to the number. All of these possibilities were somewhat horrifying. And I wanted to believe we were different when I was younger, but that wasn't true.
I found myself tormented by pessimistic behavior. Time and becoming busy. They were an ordeal of words stuck on my tongue. Not daring to say them out loud.
He was scared of it, and I was as well. It was almost an unspoken agreement, not to mention it. The thought of him pulling both of us in reality wasn't pleasant, but the most truthful I could be was to myself at that very moment.
Venti and I would most likely be separated by time and our own lives as how it would process— with a very low percentage of luck to be reunited. Maybe fate did exist, and one day, through some sort of coincidence.
——✧･ﾟ: ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆
RAINEE's NOTE;
This will get maybe no to little attention whatsoever, but surely it's gonna be so much fun writing this :D
Edit aftermath: Holy shit back in 2022, I would've never thought this could reach almost 40k reads.
Hope u enjoy it too, dear reader<3