Coma by fatsoko

Wake up. I shake you, but you don't move. Do you know how many times I've told you with my eyes that I loved you? I've told you with my once-warm hands that I was afraid for you. I told you with a turn of my heavy heart that I was disappointed in you. These are the gestures of love, are they not? Only someone so drowned in love would feel this way, right? When you sleep, I wipe away your cold sweat as you heave coughs in your nightmare, worry in my face. When you run from me, I stay in place so that if you decide to return, I'll be there, waiting for you at the place you deserted me, just so you won't be alone. Sigh.

This love is perfect, isn't it? Love has no faults. But…if it were really perfect, how come I don't want this world? Why is it that sometimes, I just wish that I would be the one to make a mistake, not you? Sometimes, I just wish that I weren't the prince and you weren't the klutz, but it's never going to change. I will be me. And you will be you. All of those myths about love…they're just myths. Love is unconditional but even then there are conditions. Yah…just because love exists doesn't mean there will be happiness. Not at all. You don't get it yet. Maybe you will never understand.

But I want you to. For once, try to understand that my world—it really does revolve around you. Understand that I'm trying so hard to not let my world revolve around you because it hurts too much—it hurts because I know your world doesn't revolve around me, around us. Once you understand that, maybe you'll finally let me step away from you—from your life, from your imaginary pain and your imaginary friends. I don't want that anymore. I hope you understand that. I want you to understand so that maybe—out of pity—out of kindness—maybe you'll let me go because God knows I'm not strong enough to let you go.

But even then…why is it that every time I try to walk away, I can barely bring myself to turn my back to you for even a second? Why is it that when I watch your wandering eyes, even though I know you're up to mischief—even though I know you'll end up hurting me—why can't I just walk away? Why do I sit here waiting long hours until you return even though I know that you won't return until the next morning, drunk and in your usual state of disarray?

Will you even notice if I walk away? If I stepped out from this place that you call yours, will you notice that one of your belongings has run away? I wonder. It was always like this. I would wait for you. I would wait for you in the cold until my face blistered and I could no longer feel my hands. I waited with the same thought running on my mind: "If I move from this spot and you come, we'll miss one another if I leave." I never would let myself tell my mind that you had carelessly forgotten about me.

But now, I have to tell myself that you've forgotten about me.

I can't wait anymore in the blistering cold. I can't wait anymore. I once thought that I could wait forever but the passage of time has worn away my strength to the point where I don't even remember when I wasn't waiting. It's eating me up inside but you—you're so oblivious—you don't notice a thing. If you loved me, wouldn't you be able to read how sad my eyes are? If you cared at all, wouldn't you see how empty our lives have become? How frail my frame feels when I hug you—my frailty came from the hurt that swallowed up all of my strength. I'm wasting away to nothing. I'm the one disappearing but how come you're the one that feels like you'll disappear if you can't eat away my life?

Ugh. When did it get like this? Was it always like this? Were you always so distant from me? So parasitic?

How did we even fall in love? Or was it just me who fell in love? How could I even believe it was the right love?

I regret that I didn't realize the kind of love you could offer me. You couldn't give me anything that could heal me. You say "Give give give.", but I feel as if there's nothing left to give. I've given you my life so many times. Just because you once said, "I love you." I thought those words—the way they lingered on my heart—I thought those words were the key to something that people could only find in heaven. I took those words without a second thought.

Gosh. I don't even remember now. I don't remember any beginnings…any endings.

So please. Wake up.

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Ha. He's gone. He's really gone. I thought he knew. He wasn't stupid; only I'm the stupid one. When he confessed to me, I didn't say anything, because I knew that he was too good for me. I knew that I was too selfish for him so I carelessly went on with life, never telling him to disappear, because he was the only thing in my life that wouldn't hate me.

I knew that no matter what, a part of him would love me even though I'm selfish. I pushed him away, hoping that one day he'd realize that I'm no good; that he should just throw me away, because I'm not good enough to be the one to throw him away. He's not trash; I don't want to treat him like trash, even though many of my friends would say he's trash.

I wondered how far he would go for me. I waited in the shadows, watching him wait for me. I thought—he's like any other boy—he'll leave any minute now. But he didn't. He didn't move an inch. When I told him "I love you," I meant it, but not in the way he wanted, even if he didn't realize it. I loved him because he put up with my selfishness. When I made mistakes, he didn't lash out at my irresponsible behavior. When my parents criticized him, he only said kind words.

I want you to forget me. Because I depend on you too much for the wrong reasons. This isn't love. It's sin.

At night, I hear you whisper, "Wake up."

I've been awake. It's you who's been sleeping. I'm glad you've finally woken up.