chapter one: progress

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I knew he wouldn't answer. but I didn't know what else to do. at least this way, I can pretend he's just sleeping, or his phone's dead.

his phone is dead.

he's not.

I had done this many times in the last few months. you could no longer see his last reply. all the bubbles are me. bubbles telling of my days and how much I miss spending them with him. God, I miss him.

I miss him so much it's insane, so much it hurts.

but I still text him.

Taehyung
hey... it's been two weeks since we
buried you. it's still so hard
to believe that ur not here.

I miss you. I miss you a lot.
but I am doing what you asked.
I'm taking care of them.

I'm making sure we don't grow
apart. I'm keeping an eye on us.

Taehyung
it's been four weeks. today would
have been your birthday.
you would have been 22.

my God Joel why did you
do that? I miss you so fucking much.
I didn't know anyone could
feel like this.

they're all moving on.
they still think about you, of course.
but they're better.
they don't cry as much anymore.

you were my everything man.
the one person who wasn't supposed to hurt me. but you did.
you hurt me so bad.
I feel like a child saying this.
telling someone how bad it hurts feels
juvenile. but my gosh.
I'm in so much pain dude.

fuck, just come back, please?

Taehyung
it's been five months.
they don't cry anymore.
I still do.
almost every night.
Simon has gotten worse.
ik, how right?
he's meaner. says meaner things.

says a lot about my body.
he hit me the other day.
not hard.
I think I might have deserved it.
I yelled at him.
what would you say if you were here?

you'd tell me I was perfect.
telling me I'm fragile, but it suits me.
telling me I was strong because I did it.
I got here.
even if I wanted to give up, I got farther than you.

fuck, I miss u sm:(

Taehyung
fuck.
it's been eight months.
I'm a little better. I still cry a lot.
but now, it's not just about you.
sometimes it's Simon.
sometimes it's nothing at all.
and then...sometimes
it's you.

I think about all the amazing things about you. then I start thinking about how much I miss you.
sometimes I think it's even okay.
that's it's okay I miss you this much.

but I'm better.
I've excepted it.
I don't walk into your room by accident anymore.
I don't walk in there without realizing it anymore, I don't accidentally walk in to tell you about my day. it's even when I'm outside the house.
I don't text you pictures of things I find at the store that reminds me of you.
I don't know if that is good or bad.

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