Despair.

Ch.25: What We Became Again

The Way It Used To Be by Pet Shop Boys.

Um... Hello.

Oliver's almost here. Well, he's actually:

(17:30) ten minutes away 

And I'm... pretty sure I will be imploding now, thank you. 

I thought I could handle it, I really did. I told myself that I wouldn't feel like this again. I've been convincing myself all day, every day that I could stop it, would stop it, had to stop it. Because after a lot of thinking, crying, cooking, screaming, thinking again, more cooking, and tearing down all my motivational posters I realized...

He thinks I didn't care. After my horribly botched confession, he honestly thinks I didn't care.

That I didn't cry every day after that. That I didn't throw up most of those days, convinced it was the most disgusting thing to feel if because if it made him that upset then it was wrong. And he thinks I didn't try my best to like girls, just so I could be around him again. And he doesn't know I failed over and over, but only because every time I started feeling something, anything, I just heard his grumpy voice, saw his smirk, his rare smiles, his dirty blond locks, and knew that I'd never be cured.

And by the time I figured that it was okay, that it was alright and even healthy to like him that way? It was too late. I still spoke Oliver and he said 'stay the fuck away from me' and this time he didn't mean anything else.

And how I could try to approach him? Pretend I was less into him when the older we got the more... I wanted. How I could come to him with a straight face and not break my streak, lie to him for the first time? Not say: My crush for you not only hasn't gone away, not only it's been growing ridiculously out of hand but I think I might not be gay, after all. I'm probably Oliversexual because everybody else is just bland.'

How could I try to be just that when seeing his wild handwriting alone made me tingle? How could I keep myself from saying things like: You've switched from skull t-shirts to those black beaters that show off your arms and they make me sweat, and your hair like this looks like the silkiest thing on the planet and your lips grew just plump enough to bite.

To be fair, it's not my fault that Oliver went from a cute boy to a god. That his already sturdy frame became even more so and then more. That his bratty attitude grew into this sleeping dragon inside him that could wake up at any moment but... if you walk just right, step on the right stones, feed, and pet a little, then he protects you.

Someone that can set the world on fire yet keeps you safe— what's sexier than that?

So... yes, what others called friends wasn't an option for me anymore, not now that I'd learned it. Because... to me? That was friends, but that's not what Oliver wanted. But then I thought best friends could be enough. That's what we've always been at the core, isn't it?

And what we became again.

Oliver's still the person I enjoy the most. He's still the one that makes me laugh the most, and the one I have the most memories with. He's the person I don't need to tell to go away when my social battery is finally running out, because he's never the one to drain it. Everything's better when Oliver's around, and he's the only one that never makes me feel alone.

That's why I threw away the motivational posters— they were mocking me.

'Today Will Be Better!'

No, landscape. It won't be a better day without him.

'Never Give Up!'

Too late, bright forest.

'Excuses Are For The Weak.'

He literally said he'd kill me, sunrise, so... what could I do?

A lot. I could have done... a lot. But I was angry, too. Despite all of this, I was so very angry. And that's not something I generally feel so I didn't know what to do with it this time, either. 

That's when I realized he was right. Maybe I... got competitive. I had to win him over not only because I wanted him but because I didn't want to lose, and every time I lost I got more addicted to it, and... that's no way to treat a person. He's not a game, or a test I'd promised myself I'd ace.

I stopped seeing him, too. Didn't I? That must have hurt.

"If I'm not a villain, then you're not the fucking hero."

And I wanted to be. He hurt me too when he said it, but it doesn't matter who did it first because it just means... just friends was better. Just friends is easier. 

It's enough. But that new emoji alone is making my heart thump. 

(17:40) at the door ✌

Tomorrow by Mika.

Please take a moment to answer: Ian's POV returned only when Oliver connected back to him. Did you miss it?