Momojirou Oneshots

Letters 🔪

Just an angst letter that is inspired by my English homework. Yes, my English homework. I don't even know how that happened, but anyways enjoy.

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Dear Yaomomo, 

It was a bittersweet goodbye.

I knew it would be selfish to try to talk you out of it, even if I could, I was pretty quiet. At the same time, the thought that you might (in fact, most definitely would) be better off there, in another country - without me - made me uneasy. You kept promising that we'd stay in touch, but I was scared that people always say this (to soften the blow) and then they just fade away. I don't want that to happen to us. I love you and I feel like this gap would make me lose my mind. That's what happened to my big brother when he moved out of town. He said that people gradually disappear, and that whenever he visits me and my family, he passes his old friends on the street and they don't say a single word to him. 

When my brother bumps into people that were once his friends - the people he once shared hot chocolates with in the winter and went camping with in the summer - they either awkwardly avoid eye contact or respond to his smile with an inquisitive glance, a half-smile which says "Don't I know you from somewhere?" and then keep on walking. At best, they try to stop for a moment, make a small talk and promise to arrange a reunion that will never materialise. I don't want that to be us. We're meant to be cuddling, sneaking out, laying around in meadows, listening to music and stay-up-all-night-talking friends, not distant pen pals. 

Even the positive thinker, you'd say that the latter is preferable. For me, being pen pals just reminds me that our friendship isn't what it once was. We'll see each other from time to time, you said, and that's true. Yet, I'll always be reminiscing on those memories, and we won't be creating new ones. At last, not in the same way. Our lives will no longer be intertwined, separated by hundreds of miles as opposed to the several short roads. We may have met when we were 15, but I've never imagined life without you ever since. 

You were late, somehow. The leaves crunched underneath your feet as you approached the bench I sat on. The sound of crunching leaves sent me whirling back in time to autumn months, some years ago now. You know when a certain sight or sound suddenly jogs your memory and you find yourself thrown back in time for a split second? A dose of deja vu. All of a sudden, my mind was full of that hide and seek round. When we hid in a tree for so long that eventually, it started getting dark. When we thought that they were still searching for us. When we realised it was so late, that we could barely see each other. The terror we felt while we were searching for out way back made us realise we weren't so grownup after all. 

I barely said a word that evening: my eyes fixed on the ground for the most of it. It wasn't that nothing was going through my mind. I know you cared too, but it's funny how differently we deal with these things. You were beating around the bush, and wouldn't stop talking. At the time, I was a little hurt by how unfazed you seemed. Now I understand that you were scared it would be the last time we would ever see each other, so you wanted to say anything and everything you could to me, to get it all out before it was too late. That's how you've always been when you're nervous - you wouldn't shut up. I never knew why back then, but it makes sense to me now: you were afraid that when you stopped talking, it would fall silent, and that once it fell silent, it would be time to call it a night.

You were scared that this was the end.

I love you and always have,

Jirou