Despair

Feels Weird.

(10:55) heya! can you meet up today? ?

(13:36) I can't do this anymore.

(13:37) do what?

...

(16:02) Pretend that you're still here.

(16:02) Pretend that you're still here.

Music Track: despair by leo.

Six months ago...

Listen— I don't like the i***t.

I don't like him now, I didn't like him before, and I won't like him anytime soon.

Why? He's annoying, that's why. You can't trust someone that's so... happy, I guess, all the time. That's not real. That doesn't happen. Nobody is just fine, all day, every day. Nobody is actually okay with themselves, right? No. They're just better at hiding it. So he's good, too good, and I don't f*****g like that.

I don't get it, either. I told him to leave me alone. Once, twice, three times, and every other day.

"Well, there's no more room, so I guess we're stuck together for now."

Sure, but that doesn't mean that we have to talk about anything else— we don't have anything in common anymore. I don't like the shitty shows he rambles about all day. I don't like the stupid music that makes him smile like a moron. And I don't like him.

Sure, it's kind of odd when he's not here, but that's normal. It's not like he doesn't come to school every now and then, so it's just natural to be kinda worried.

Like, hey— are you dead? No? Cool, then I go on with my day.

"It's been so long since we've talked, um... at all," was the next thing he said. And I guess so— I don't remember.

"Wow, you're so good at it," he added, because he's a f*****g little spy, and looks over at my drawings even though I told him not to. "Did you study art?"

"No."

And who the hell giggles at that?

"Makes sense! You've always been so talented."

Whatever. He probably doesn't know anything about drawing, so everything looks good to him. I'm sure he's grown into one of those people that like everything they see, that have no kind of criteria whatsoever.

Damn it, here he comes again.

"Hey!"

He probably slept well— I can hear it in his voice. He's the kind of person that just falls asleep at night. Weirdo. Lucky weirdo. Then he yawns widely, barely getting to cover his mouth, and turns to me while I keep on shading the lapel of this shirt I've been struggling with for half an hour.

"Good morning."

"Morning," I grumble, and I kinda hate that I have no good reasons to be angry at him yet.

"You have to listen to this song," he gushes, and I know it's gonna be some cutesy bullshit again. But I've also learned that if I say no, he's just gonna try harder. Hell, he's already giving me one of his earbuds. Fine.

I slip the earbud in and... yeah— cutesy bullshit.

"I know, it's probably it's not your thing. But he's good, right?"

Kind of. "There's a million things that sound like it."

"Well... yeah, but the lyrics?"

"They're stupid."

"Oh."

He's upset? God, what a little... b***h, why does he even push this stuff on me if he's gonna be—

"Well, I like them," he insists.

"Because you're stupid, too."

And then he frowns, finally turning back to his notebook. Okay, good— he got the message.

"Or you are," he mutters.

Well, that's new.

"You're right, though. I should... really stop showing you things. It's my fault."

"Yeah." Uh... yeah.

"Cool."

"Cool."

Some silence, finally. Although... damn it, now that stupid song is gonna be stuck in my head all day. See how annoying he is, now? At least he's shut up, though.

For a while, now.

Huh.

Feels weird.