It's one of those nights when you can't tell what the weather wants to be. The wind is chilly when it passes by, sending shivers up your body. But when it dies, the warmth arrives, unexpectedly making beads of sweat appear on your skin. It's a little difficult to decide on how to sleep in this kind of atmosphere.
Wonwoo has been tossing and turning on his bed for a while now. He's been trying to sleep for the past two hours but the weather is bothering him. His bedroom window is open to let the cool breeze in. However, when he chooses to wrap himself in a blanket, the coolness would disappear and he'd be too hot in his cocoon.
For the nth time, he kicks off the sheets and sprawls on his back. He lets out heavy sigh, staring outside the window, at the black inky sky. There's no star in sight, but maybe it's just in his perspective.
He stares and stares, knowing that eventually, his mind will give up and let him catch some Z's. Moments like this are rare for him after all, especially with the career path he chose.
Wonwoo didn't think that he and his fellow members would reach this point wherein people constantly talk about their group, their members, their achievements. It had felt like it would take such a long time to be able to have an ounce of their sunbaes' popularity. Training had been hard; preparation for their debut even more.
But it had all been worth it. They might be a few less members than when they started. However, it was okay. They were all reaching for their dreams in their own ways.
A partially dark cloud passes over his face as he frowns a little. After the scandal that his past self had caused, his sickness had seemed to come at the most appropriate time. He absentmindedly rubs a hand over his stomach, which is thankfully calm for the moment. It's as if his body said that he should take a break from everything, even the difficult life of an idol.
However, that meant not being part of the group's current promotion. Wonwoo sighs again, closing his eyes and throwing an arm over it. He was able to take part in the creation of the music, MV and album, but it was just different not being able to perform with the others. There would always be a grain of envy (he knows it's that emotion) when he sees the entire group enjoying onstage without him. He knows that even with his sickness, he can do the dance (despite his reputation for being a "dance machine") and rap his part, just like how he did it in their previous promotions.
It's just that... the company's decision was final. Wonwoo had to rest for the meantime. Especially if he wanted to take part in their upcoming schedules. The promotion can be done without him. And it was going well, from what he can see and hear. It's a little regretful that he can't be there.
A thought flashes in his head. Are the others still awake at this hour? Are they preparing for the concert and tour? Are they at each other's throats due to the stress and pressure? He surely hopes not but it's not an implausible situation.
Another thought occurs to him and he bites down on his lip. Is... he doing okay? Is he eating and sleeping well? Wonwoo hopes the younger guy isn't overdoing it. The other boy often gets too excited and loses track of his own health.
A sound breaks through his reverie, coming from his bedside table. He removes his arm to get his phone, recognizing the tone for an incoming call. He peers at the screen, waiting for the blurriness from having the weight of his arm over his eyes for too long to disappear. The flashing light hurts his eyes a little. Then he blinks even more when he reads the name. Is this some psychic stuff?
He answers it, bringing the device to his ear. He doesn't have to say anything to have the other end bursting with sound.
The voice is loud and annoying, given that it's the dead of the night. But Wonwoo feels a smile tugging on his lips as the voice is a welcomed distraction.
"Hyung, are you there?" The voice sounds perplexed and a little worried. "Did you fall asleep right away after picking up my call?"
Still so energetic at 3 AM. "Am here," he murmurs.
The other catches it anyway. "Oh, good. I thought you accidentally answered my call and I have to wonder the entire time if you're there."
That wouldn't be too far from a possible reality but he doesn't say it. "What's up? You do know what time it is, right?"
"It's," there's a pause and the other must be checking the time. "Oh, wow. Really? Didn't think it was that late already."
Of course. Losing track of time often happens to them when they're continuously working and improving their tracks. "You the only one who's still up?"
He hears a sound from the other end. "Nope. Coups hyung, Vernon and Woozi hyung still here."
The hip hop team (without him) and their producer. Wonwoo feels a little twinge at that, wishing that he could be with them right now. He pushes the feeling away and tries to focus on the other. "Working hard, eh? How have things been?"
The younger guy seemed to have taken this as some sort of permission, as he launches into a tirade of complaints, anecdotes and bad jokes. Wonwoo listens well, like the good hyung that he is, because despite the other's apparent irritating late-night talkativeness, he missed this. He missed hearing the other rant and rave about their everyday life, even though he probably went through the same thing. He missed seeing what was happening to the other guy with his own eyes, watching over him like he always does. He missed hearing the other's laughter, grumbles, and all the sounds the other can make, which were quite a lot. He missed dealing with the necessities and hazards of their career with the younger by his side.
Hearing the other talk about the things he's missing out on plants an ache of sorts in his chest. Envy, anxiety, annoyance, sadness... He can't tell what it is. He tries to ignore it, but it was nagging him a little.
When the other end falls silent, he realizes that the younger guy is done. He can hear him catching his breath, making Wonwoo chuckle a little. "I'm sure if you talk to Coups hyung, things'll be fine." He says, knowing their leader can resolve anything that arises between the members.
"I just feel like a tattletale if I tell him that," the other whines, and Wonwoo almost points out that he is a tattletale for telling him about it. But he doesn't because the other would grumble endlessly about Wonwoo not taking his side.
He hears another voice from the line, and the younger guy answers back. "Ah, the others says hi. And hope you're taking your break really well."
The snide comment must have been from their producer, and it makes Wonwoo chuckle. "I am, actually. I'm enjoying every ounce of it."
There's another voice piping up, and it makes the younger guy on the other end laugh. "You should be careful when you come back."
I wonder when that is, Wonwoo thinks but joins the laughter he can hear from the line. "Should I not go back then?"
"I was kidding, geez." Silence falls on the other end. Wonwoo wonders what the younger did. Then the sound of a door being shut emits from the speaker. "You still there?"
"Yeah," the voice sounds a little forlorn. "You're not really thinking about not going back, are you?"
Somehow, just this question sends Wonwoo's heart fluttering and his stomach twists inside his body. There was a tone to the younger's voice, one that Wonwoo wanted to erase and never hear from the other again. The joke might have been a little harsh, but it was just that. A simple joke and nothing more. "Of course not, idiot. I didn't train for years just to leave like that." He chides. But really, there's more reason to stay than that. He hears a relieved sigh and chuckles.
"Okay, that's good. For a moment, I was worried there."
Wonwoo bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from smiling, although the other can't even see. It just feels ridiculous to be grinning at that. He glances at the clock and notes the time. He didn't want the call to end. Not now. Not ever. But the other's surely working and he didn't want to be in the way. "I have to go. Gotta get some sleep."
"Oh right, you have to rest." There's another pause. "I can call tomorrow, right?"
The hesitation surprises Wonwoo a little. The younger never bothers to know something like that. He always assumes that everything he does to Wonwoo is okay. Well, Wonwoo isn't really complaining. "Why are you even asking? You'd call anyway."
A bark of laughter resounds and the smile just can't be held back anymore as Wonwoo imagines the other's face as he laughs. "I'll call then. Ah, Hyung?"
Wonwoo would be looking forward to that. "Hmm?"
Ah. He glances again at the digital clock on his bedside table, and sees the date flashing. Now, why didn't he remember that? "Thanks... Mingyu."
The other bids him a good night before he hangs up. Wonwoo lets his hand holding his phone rest on his chest, the device warm against his shirt. He feels the fluttering in his chest again. The ache previously occupying it is gone. He had to wonder if it was because of the younger guy. He feels elated, and a little incredulous. But it still feels nice to hear from the younger boy.
The phone vibrates in his grip, signalling a message. He quickly opens it, sees the name of the sender, and reads it. He feels heat flushing up his cheeks and he has to take deep breaths to calm himself.
'I miss you. Come back soon, okay?'
Damn that guy.
Wonwoo rolls over onto his stomach, shutting his eyes with a smile still on his face.
It's one of those nights wherein when you switch on the fan, the wind is too cold, but when you switch it off, it's just too hot. It's one of those nights that sleep will not come easily because the weather just doesn't allow it. Wonwoo still doesn't know whether to sleep with the blanket on or off. But he finds the comfort somehow.
He misses performing, misses the cheers, misses the others. It's a little strange to be resting well when the others are working their asses off. But he knows he'll be back in no time, healthy and ready. After all, there's a certain guy named Kim Mingyu who misses and waits for him.
Because my BangHim feels have been.... idk where they are now and I just /insert ugly crying/ miss theeeeemmmmm
A super belated happy birthday to these two ^^
The tension was almost palpable. Himchan didn't know if he's the only one who can feel it. But it's there, like a thick concrete wall that cannot be broken down.
He must be crazy to have placed it there. For a good reason, yes. But it's gonna drive him insane.
Himchan saw one of the younger boys hovering around the eldest, unperturbed that the rapper wasn't saying anything despite shooting himself as he ate. Typical Daehyun attitude, he's still chattering behind the other without really asking for a conversation.
Himchan felt a twinge of something he didn't want to think about, something he's pushing away because it's misplaced. He envied the freedom his dongsaeng had, without a thought for the consequences of his actions. Especially around the leader. Or really, just around the leader.
He almost laughed at that. It's his own fault he's in this situation.
The higher ups had given them a warning, him and Yongguk. There had been too much screentime wherein they were into themselves. It was making things too obvious, putting them at a slight disadvantage.
Because of this, Himchan decided to set a boundary for himself. All he had to do was stay away from the other. Ever since the preparation for the latest promotion, he made it his habit to give space. For Yongguk to think, to create. Heaven knows they needed his talent very much. And Himchan didn't want to be a bother. He knew if he just did this staying-away-to-give-space thing, he'd get used to it even in front of the camera.
Hanging out mostly with Jongup had helped, too. It didn't feel like a burden, like how it did with the leader.
But moments like this make it harder for him to just be satisfied with watching.
He noticed Daehyun taking the camera and spotting the working stream. He watched as the singer handed it back and the older resumed his silent eating program.
He hesitated, torn between going near or staying where he was. It wasn't like that was gonna cause a scandal. He was just gonna go over and talk like how they normally do on camera. Wouldn't hurt a bit, right?
That moment was taken advantage by one of their stylists though, coming close and commenting about something he was wearing. Or was it about something he was to wear? He didn't hear, really. His attention was still on their leader.
Thankfully, the stylist kept it short and soon walked away.
Himchan didn't fight it anymore and went over, mentally reminding himself not to go overboard. He set his phone down on the table. Hand on the back of the chair, the other on the table. Not too close, but close enough to be seen in the video, he bent down next to Yongguk, and caught a hint of cologne the other wore. It was that cologne he gave, one that gave off a subtle, musky scent. And it hit him hard right where he wasn't supposed to be affected. He tried hard not to glance at the other's direction because of this. He didn't want to be obvious, and he wasn't being minded anyway.
He could see the rapper's nape in his peripheral vision, and the temptation to touch was great. Just how fair and smooth his nape was, how Himchan's fingers would usually brush over that area.
He almost did, if Daehyun had not peered down at the screen. Himchan inwardly shook himself and focused his attention on the rolling comments. It wasn't like Yongguk was going anywhere. Try to act normal just a little.
The amount of birthday greetings earned his attention, and made him smile. He straightened a little to check his phone (to push Daehyun away, truthfully) and caught sight of Yongguk offering food to the camera. Babo, he thought with just a little affection before bending down again.
Because the timing was right (or just a little awkward), he thanked the fans who greeted him. Daehyun spouted something again but he didn't hear. Because Yongguk finally noticed him.
"Ah right. Today's your birthday."
Daehyun laughed in response as Himchan made a noncommittal sound. It should hurt how the rapper forgot, but Himchan let it go. Especially with that cute, guilty-slash-sheepish expression he's making, as seen through the screen.
Himchan pulled himself together quickly though, before that could distract him, and thanked the fans again, throwing an extra heart sign.
Yongguk spoke then, saying how he was just eating on his birthday. Himchan wasn't sure but there might have been disappointment in the other's tone.
He nodded, because he didn't know what to say. Because it was fine as he understood that the other was busy, more so than the rest of them. Because it was Yongguk and it was enough that he was there on his birthday. He added a soft thanks as he crouched but he wasn't sure if it was for the fans or for the other.
Just a little longer more beside him, Himchan thought as he patted down his hair and checked his look. Yongguk spoke again about the location they were in. Just for the sake of saying something, the second eldest pointed out that they were to start in a few minutes. He threw a random thanks again and a flying kiss when Yongguk didn't say anything anymore. He must have overstayed his welcome beside the leader already.
Himchan reluctantly got to his feet, and took his phone. He wanted to do more next to the other, to show to the people that on this special day, their leader was enough for him.
But of course, he can't. With a heavy sigh, he walked away, vaguely hearing a husky "bye" in the background.
This was familiar to him. The heat, the blinding lights, the deafening screams, the beats that thrum through his body. In front of all their loyal fans, this was where they all belong.
Throwing up his arms and nodding his head to the rhythm, his mouth moved with familiarity when it was his turn to sing. The energy was up; everybody was jumping and dancing to the lively music. Everything was where they were supposed to be, and nothing could possibly throw him off onstage.
A movement caught his eye and Himchan turned just in time to witness the eldest strip off his shirt.
He nearly forgot himself then. Where he was, why he was there, how he got there. Because the image of Yongguk's tattooed physique was all he could see. The intricate markings on his chest and arm stood out against pale skin as their leader moved and danced infront of fans going crazy. At that moment, Himchan understood what they were feeling. He wanted to go crazy, too. It's been so long since...
With great difficulty, he tore his eyes away from that inviting sight. They still had a concert to finish and it wasn't the time for him to get carried away. A different kind of heat had risen inside him though, one that he'd probably need to take care of later... alone again...
But opportunity seemed to tease and present itself to him. He spotted Yongguk walking over in his topless glory, giving out fanservice as if it was natural for him to do (it wasn't before, really).
Himchan tried to ignore it. It's not like it's the first time he's seen it. They were usually topless back at home or in their hotel rooms, when it's not too cold. It wasn't the first time he'd seen, and certainly won't be the last time. Yongguk's body doesn't even change that much, given that his weight doesn't drastically fluctuate.
However, every nerve in Himchan's body seemed to be demanding him to go over and just... feel. It's been so long since he last touched the other intimately. It wouldn't hurt to lay a hand on Yongguk's shoulder, right?
Just when it felt like fire was running in his veins, Himchan took that first crucial step toward the rapper. Yongguk had already stopped, set a foot on a speaker, and remained there. It was as if the other was also waiting for him to go closer.
Which Himchan eventually did, with sure steps now. He saw how Yongguk's sweat beaded all over his torso and how his hair was damp with it. He was basically sweat all over, crystalline drops sliding down on skin that would probably be hot to touch. And the rapper looked sexy as hell.
So Himchan did what his instinct told him that moment. He paused next to the eldest, his chest next to a bare shoulder, and laid a warm hand on Yongguk's stomach. He felt the other's slight intake of breath but neither looked at other. He didn't want to know how Yongguk reacted to what he did. Not now, at least.
Just a split second touch, and Himchan was soon trudging farther. He could still feel the heat from Yongguk's body in his palm. How strange that it felt like a promise of something more later. But he has to remind himself that the more has to be done alone, right?
It took awhile for Himchan to convince the younger guys that it was time to rest. No, it wasn't the time for drinking and celebrating. Not yet anyway. They still had other shows to do and every free time is precious time to sleep.
Yongguk was nowhere to be found after dinner. Himchan didn't think much about it as the eldest would often disappear, in need of some alone time. Probably working on some unfinished projects as well. He was trusted enough to get himself back to his room and get some well deserved sleep.
For certain, that won't be any time soon though. Himchan had enough time to deal with some, er, unaddressed issues from earlier on.
He didn't bother with the lights upon entering his and Yongguk's shared room, and headed straight for his bed. Pulling off his shirt, he tried to remember where he left his phone, when something grabbed him around the waist.
He nearly fell down on the bed in surprise, letting out a curse, before being pulled up back by his jeans. It took several owlish blinks before realizing it was Yongguk standing in front of him, grinning with fingers hooked inside his pants.
A fist shot out and hit the rapper squarely on the chest. Yongguk stumbled back, coughing and chuckling at the same time, as Himchan stood with his hands on his hips.
"What the hell's wrong with you," he snapped at the other.
"Didn't mean to scare you." Yongguk sat on the edge of his bed. "Thought you knew I was here."
Then it dawned on him that he was standing topless in front of the other, just like how the other was earlier. And Yongguk was just grinning at him, leaning back with hands resting on the bed.
Good thing there was not much lighting or the other would have seen the pinkish shade that would surely be tinting Himchan's face and neck. Not the best time to be reminded that he can still blush like some teenager. Avoiding Yongguk's stare, he grabbed his shirt and made a beeline for the bathroom.
"Whoa, right there." Long, slender fingers trapped his wrist and pulled him right back. "Where d'ya think you're going?"
"A bath would be nice right now." Himchan retorted, consciously trying to make an effort not to cover his torso. Not exactly the right time to feel shy and demure. "It's been a long day, Yongguk."
"I know, I know." The other stood up and moved closer. "But I know something else that would be nice."
Himchan almost protested in irritation, but Yongguk chose that time to press his mouth on the other's. All words left him as he stood still, unable to process what was going on. Yongguk's lips were still as soft as the last time they kissed, his breath warm against the other's cheeks. When was the last time he had felt this?
When Yongguk pulled away after a moment, it was with a sigh. His hands came up to frame Himchan's cheeks as they gazed at each other.
"I've ignored you for awhile, haven't I?" The older guy asked softly.
Himchan shook his head. "It doesn't matter."
"It does. I'm sorry." Yongguk brushed his lips over the other's cheeks, forehead and nose. "Happy birthday, love."
"My birthday's over." Nevertheless, Himchan's hands came up to cover the ones that were holding him, as his eyes fluttered close. Yongguk's lips were light and gentle as it showered feathery kisses over his face.
"Earlier on," Yongguk murmured, "it took so much in me not to take you away. When you touched me like that."
Himchan glanced at him, and spotted a glint in the other's eyes that had sparking something in him.
Yongguk pressed another kiss, more insistent this time. "Tonight's ours, alright?"
Not that that needed more convincing for either of them. Hands immediately found buttons and clothes to undo and push off. Fair skin met pale skin that had waited for quite some time to be touched, caressed and stimulated. The tastes and sounds were both familiar and new, always welcomed and wanted. Both pair of eyes were locked on each other's, and that was all that mattered.
As the night deepened, the heat only grew stronger and more demanding, in between whispered exchanges of promises and desires.
The first thing Himchan wanted to do when he saw the other members was to beat the hell out of them. The next was to run, hide and forget everything about being an idol.
Daehyun and Youngjae kept on snickering whenever they looked at him. Jongup was acting a little awkward around him; Junhong was pretending too hard to be interested in something in his phone. Himchan glanced over at their leader, but Yongguk was too busy checking things with the managers and staff. When he turned back to the others, he caught sight of the punch that Jongup gave Daehyun as Youngjae snickered again.
He somehow understood already but... how did it get out? The hotel walls weren't that thin, right?
Because he was the only logical person to approach, he walked over to Junhong, who was still oddly transfixed at his phone screen.
"Should... I know something?" He hissed.
Much to his surprise, Junhong almost choked on his own saliva. He cleared his throat before leaning in to whisper in his hyung's ear.
"Don't forget to lock the door next time, Hyung."
Himchan suddenly wished the ground would swallow him up whole.
Wow. I hope that was okay. Hahaha /dies
- Music:B.A.P - S.N.S (Oh yeah~)
I suck at this x_____x
I don't think I can take more of this.
I watch as he chats another girl, flashing that boyish smile that charms anybody. And I feel that telltale heavy sensation in the pit of my stomach.
With much effort, I turn around, and hurriedly walk away, the image burnt brightly in my mind.
No more. Just no more.
"Do you like him?" was the question a friend threw at me that day I first ranted about him.
It took all words right out of my mouth. For someone whose studies and living revolved around them, it was strange to be left speechless. I stared for a few seconds at my friend, then forcefully spoke, "no."
She snorted in derision, popping a French fry in her mouth. "Sure? Maybe you should think about that first."
I snorted. "Why would I even like him? He's not even my type."
The shrug she gave me was nonchalant but a smirk was on her lips. "Just thought you don't talk about guys that way unless there's something more."
Maybe I did think about it a little bit more.
How his smile brightens up a particularly bad day. How his presence makes me feel like I can handle anything. How just the sound of my name coming from him induces an exceptionally toothy grin. How I'm practically looking forward to the day because I'll see him.
It was like being pulled into a wave, really. Slowly, it sucks you in, little by little, until you have no control on where you're going. The wave swells, becoming bigger and higher. Then, without any warning, it drops you back down, harshly and almost painfully, and you're out of breath, from being underwater and being manipulated.
It takes you awhile to recover because emotions are jumbling together: disbelief, incredulity, exhilaration, annoyance, fear.
I didn't ask for it. I never do. Especially with someone with such close proximity. And with a face like that.
The stakes are too high, the risks too huge. Why would I even want to have a problem like that?
But then, you don't choose when and to who this happens.
No, you simply don't have the power over attraction. Or, God forbid, love. It just doesn't work that way.
So how do you face such a situation?
I honestly don't have the faintest idea. But I've been trying to do it one freaking step at a time.
But it claws at me every time, at the way he easily gives attention while I feel like I'm practically begging to be noticed.
He does at times. When I forget to take care of myself, forget to eat like a normal person because there's so much duties to handle. When everything is suddenly too much to handle and I can't breathe.
And maybe it kills me that he acts this way, like I actually matter. Because somewhere along the way, the wind will suddenly change and leave me wondering if it was just my fleeting imagination.
I find myself in a nearby park, my feet automatically taking me there in dire need of space and air. I walk over to a bench, thankful that the place isn't so crowded at a time like this.
Sitting down, I lean back, shut my eyes, and breathe in deeply. I try to dispel that ache sitting on my chest, like it's just some bad feeling from eating way over your limit.
I've always thought I'm overreacting when it comes to him. I had no right whatsoever. What were we other than good friends? And besides, he never displayed any signs of feeling the same way. My mistake was thinking I have a chance.
The sunlight flickers out for a moment from my closed eyelids, then I sense another presence. I look up just as someone sat beside me. And nearly scamper away when I see who it is.
He's shooting me that smile. "Emo again, huh?"
My eyes narrow as I try to calm my suddenly racing heart. "What are you doing here?"
His shoulders lift in a halfhearted shrug. "Nothing, really. Saw you walk out a way and you didn't look too good."
Of course. You only notice me when I'm not feeling well or in a good mood. I let my head loll back, shutting my eyes again. "Go back. I need to be alone."
"No. Not until you're okay and we go back together."
That earns my ire and I glare at him. He still has that goddamn smile. "Why are you even bothering?"
If it's possible, his smile becomes wider, and just a little annoying.
"C'mon." He gets up on his feet, and holds out a hand. "The day isn't done yet."
I stare at his hand, then back at him. Maybe I'll keep on wondering why, why things happen, why it has to be me.
But maybe one day too, I'll just stop questioning things.
Until that day comes, maybe I'll just ride this wave until it dies down, while hoping for the best. Whatever that is.
I slap away his hand just as I stand up. "Thanks for the reminder."
And I walk on, knowing he'll just be following right behind me.
It's been awhile. I'm out of practice. OTL
Writing... It was something I hated to do when I was younger.
During kindergarten up to grade school, whenever the teacher asks what we all did during summer, I knew somewhere along the way, she would make us write an essay about it. Essays that tried to make it look like we had an interesting summer but actually, it was the same as last year, and the year before that.
I dunno when I started to write. Not good, if I say so myself. Finding my old stuff still makes me cringe when I read them today. But I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. Writing down ideas and scenes that form inside my head. Admittedly, most of the time, this happened when I'm in class and I'm bored to death.
I guess the passion started there, when I wanted to escape reality and be in my fantasies. When everything is not going well, I'd make myself feel better by writing, and imagining myself in that world that I'll never be in for real.
Because this continued on, I ended up choosing creative writing as my course in college. Well, that and journalism. In the midst of my journey through studying and learning about creative writing, I realized that journalism wasn't for me. I guess fate intervened during my application because journalism was initially my first choice. But certain circumstances happened and I ended up choosing creative writing.
This was where the real test began. When I wrote back in grade school and high school, I always received praises for my writing. It was because in a class of 50 something students, there was only a handful who actually writes, and writes good. Yeah, I can actually call myself good. I think I can say that my writing is good.
But upon stepping into college, and everyone in the class is a writer, I felt just how mundane my writing was (I think it still is), and how insignificant I was as a writer. Everyone had some sort of writing achievement. I had tried to join contests or the school's newspaper staff before, but I never won or got in. Rejection and criticism were my enemies back in GS and HS, and they continued to haunt me even in college.
Maybe that's the problem with me. I don't like making mistakes. So when my works are criticized, it hurts to hear and grudgingly accept the errors I've done. Until now, I think it's still the same for me.
Which is why I've only let a few people read certain works of mine. Because I know these works are good. Not the best, mind you, but enough to be accepted as good writing. That somewhere along the way of my writing, something good came out as a result. That I wasn't bad of a writer, that I can write stuff that people will read.
Part of me still dreams to publish a book one day. I believe I'm still young enough to achieve that. That I can come up with something that is worthy enough to be turned into a book to be sold.
But another part of me takes in reality, that in this world that contains a lot of awesome writers who spew out incredible and amazing works, I might just end up at the bottom of the pile, forgotten.
The future is somewhere along the corner. I don't know what may happen. No one knows really. Who knows? Maybe I can actually make something good enough.
But will I ever find myself as one of the best writers? No. I think that'll forever be in me, that I'll always find myself ordinary and just good. Same goes for my writing.
Lol I don't even know why I'm posting it here. I don't edit anything I write, especially a post like this. No one will be able to read this anyway because I rarely advertise that I have a blog of some sorts.
I just thought that I had to put this down in writing because of an article that a friend of mine linked to me. The author was a ghostwriter of Sweet Valley High, a series I used to follow when I was younger. She talked about ghostwriting, as compared to "real" writing. She also spoke how she was like Elizabeth most of the time, and other times, like Jessica.
What she wrote just got me thinking about my own writing. How I'm still uncertain about it (among other things) even after graduating from college. How I think I'll never get over my fear of rejection and criticism. How I'll continue on wondering if I'll be able to publish a book in the future...
To the One who Left...
...the same one who'll never know about my feelings.
First of all, I like you.
I might even be in love with you.
But you'll never be aware of that. Because I won't tell you. Because our friendship is too important to me to let my feelings get in the way.
Besides, I'd be awkward around you once we see each other again. I know we’ll see each other again.
I need some kind of closure, though. Even if it's the kind that will never reach you.
Did you know already? I bet. People told me you were the type to discover such things. I don't know if I should be grateful that if you did know, you still chose to befriend (or tolerate?) me. I know I was too "makulit" and annoying sometimes. I think I have to be grateful to the fact that you're born nice.
You were mostly the reason why I was able to get up on certain days. Because I knew I would see you. Because despite us not talking sometimes throughout the entire day, you manage to at least brighten it up with just you being there. Although I mostly see glimpses of you, I was okay with it. I somehow manage to cope with the day because you were somewhere nearby.
How did it happen? How did I come to like you? I don't know when it started. I just knew at first that somehow, I liked talking to you. I liked talking about you. There was something about you that made me smile.
Then I dreamt of you along with other people we were with everyday. We were on a trip, to where I don't know. I treated you differently. I treated you like you were special. All I could see is you. Cliche as it may sound, it felt like everyone was a blur. You were only the clear sight to me. When I woke up after that, I just knew. I like you more than I should.
It took awhile for me to cope with it. I never thought I’d end up liking someone again, much less someone like you. You went against all the standards I thought I had for my ideal type (excluding Korean idols, of course). And it’s been quite a (long) while since I seriously liked someone. I was wary. Because I always end up getting hurt at the end. I think I’ve became just a little cynical because of that (although truthfully, I barely have any experience).
It broke me as well when I learned that there was never a possibility of you and I becoming… an us. Because I’m not your type. Never will be. I started questioning again why it had to be you of all people. Apparently, you have a way with people, which is why some end up being attracted to you.
Then, I reached a point where I had a little breakdown. Because although I knew I had no hope, there was still a tiny sliver that stayed within me. That when I see you smile at me, hug me, laugh at my lame jokes, hold my hand, talk to me all day, I still hoped for something.
I broke down after a certain occasion. Because when I heard the praises people were saying about you, I knew. I just knew. I can never be someone that’s good enough for you. I cried myself to sleep that night. I was hurting again, wondering why I always end up getting hurt.
A friend told me I could be in love already. I laughed at it. How was that possible? I can’t be in love with someone who I just met for a few months. I was told it wasn’t about time, really. I can’t choose who and when to fall in love. Grudgingly enough, I agree to that statement.
It was another struggle. Because falling in love meant I had to deal with the frustration and pain of knowing that I can never have you, that I’ll never be someone who’s more than a friend to you. Because I’m a selfish person, I had to deal with being jealous sometimes. Jealous of the attention you give to other people. You don’t talk to me but you do to them. And I hated myself for that, for being so self-centered. I’ve always been like that.
Several times, I wanted to fight you. Just so I could earn enough of your attention. I was that selfish and petty. There was a time that I did get mad at you. And you thought it was because of a joke you made. I passed it off as a result of stress in work and my monthly visit. But what really pushed me was my frustration. I felt like I was being suffocated already. I needed the release. It happened to land on that moment.
You were too kind to let the day end with me still mad at you. You tried to fix things that night and damn you. You just made me fall in love with you again.
No matter how hopeless my situation was, I still ended up falling for you again on several occasions. You didn’t even know that the certain things you do made me trip and fall again. How I hated myself for letting it get that far.
I knew months before that you were leaving. But I couldn’t grasp the idea of not having you around. Until now, really. Because I assumed that you’d always be there for me to look forward to in a dull and ordinary day.
Friends asked me if I was going to confess. I didn’t really know. The previous times that I did confess to the person I like, I always end up getting rejected and hurt. Truth be told, it lowered my self-esteem and -confidence. I always hated it when people make it a point to joke about why I’m still single up to now. I don’t know the answer, okay? I just am. And really, I’m fine with it. Until people start to ridicule me with it, I’m fine with it.
But you were another point in my life that made me wanted to be in a relationship. It’s ridiculous, really. Sometimes, I let my imagination get the better of me and I end up thinking about things I shouldn’t think about.
That’s not the point. When you leaving became something certain, I was bothered by having to make a decision if I should confess or not. Some told me I should tell you in person. Knowing myself, I can’t do that anymore. Not when I know I’m gonna be rejected again. Who wants to get hurt, anyway? I toyed with the idea of confessing through SNS. Hahaha. For someone who advised people not to confess that way, I was willing to do that. At least, it saved me from seeing your reaction, and letting you see me break down when you reject me.
I was going to, really. But when a trip planned by friends happened, and I knew I was going to see again, I couldn’t do it anymore. You may not get awkward around people who like you. But I do. I get awkward around the people I like when I know they know about my feelings. And some things that happened before your last day convinced me not to do it anymore. I thought it wasn’t worth risking the friendship I made with you.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m hurting because I miss you. Aching to see you. I don’t know when I’ll get over it, and you. I’m still trying to deal with not having you around. I depended too much on you, on your presence.
I’m still in love with you. You know how hard it is to be in love with someone who’ll never feel the same way?
If I can just make it go away by saying I don’t want it, I would’ve done it already. But it doesn’t work that way. And honestly, that really sucks.
Thanks for everything, though. For putting up with my silly and irritating antics. (Hey, I wanted your attention, okay?) For treating me like a friend. For accepting me as is. You didn’t have to but you did.
If you got confused by this, I apologize. This is as unedited as a raw material. I don’t intend to change anything because I’m just letting my feels out, feels that I’ve kept for months. Because as far as I know, no one will get to read this even if I post it as public. Haha.
I know we’ll see each other again. When that may be, I don’t know. It can be in the coming week, or months from now.
I’m counting the days until that day. Maybe then, I can say I’m over you.
사랑해, 바보야… 고마워...
What can I do?...
I miss you already...
But I don't want to...
the taste they leave.
neither bitter nor sweet.
the flavor of something much deeper.
the ache they give.
neither wanted nor needed.
the longing for something better.
your warmth to my frozen heart.
simple touches that mean a lot, suppress a lot.
gazes that can only flicker momentarily.
too conscious, too scared.
words that go unsaid, swallowed at the surge of emotions.
steps that lead away, far away.
smiles that are fake, or trying to hide.
unrequited... stay strong. hold on.
then let go. be better.
we've all heard that story... of broken hearts and letting go.
It's like even my dreams are telling me to get real, to accept what is already there. Okay, I've acknowledged it. I know it's there already.
But why was my dream so suggestive (no, not the sexual kind)? Why did it have to keep my hopes up when I was trying to quell them? Or forget about them? Why did it have to fuel both my longing and frustration?
I used to think having a crush was okay. I still think it is. But then, I become clingy, as if I need the not-so-constant-but-more-than-sometimes attention. I become obvious; that much is clear. I eventually give myself away.
Then I get hurt.
Which, of course, I don't want.
But it's there.
So I pull back. Pull back into myself until I wish I could not feel anything anymore. Just because I won't get hurt that way.
I said having a crush was a hassle. It is. Because of that. Because I always get hurt. And I'm so tired, tired of the frustration, the wondering, the hoping.
The kilig feelings are fun for the moment. But when you get to the root... what's the point?
I know I'm gonna end up disappointed, anyway.
So why bother?
I don't know, really. I don't know.
I'm so confused.
I don't want to think about it. But I do. I always do. Which led to these dreams.
And they leave me even more confused.