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i'll say it now before i cap my pen again and run away like the coward i am.
perhaps i should drag it out (and i want to, just a little bit longer) but that would be cruel to you and being cruel to you is something i've always despised myself for doing.
so here it is:
kageyama tobio, i only left you because i was afraid, and my mother was sick from her love.
yes, kageyama tobio. my mother was sick from her love.
not in the way you must be thinking, though.
not like coughing bloodied flower petals not like thorns against the sides of her throat and most certainly not like beautiful blossoms spilling from her lips like some sort of gruesome declaration of unrequited adoration.
no.
she was sick in a physical sense because she let herself get hurt by the woman she loved.
she loved too much loved too long loved too desperately loved too hard.
she'd loved the woman so much (so long so desperately and so hard) that she'd allowed her to tear her apart from both the outside and the inside and she'd done absolutely nothing about it.
i'd long thought that was what love was about. isn't that sad? i only realized love was not yelling after nightfall sharp words shouted in 'anger' death threats once i met you.
and yet, i have no idea if what i did was self-preservation or just pure selfishness, (or just pure cowardice) but i left you because i was terrified of it happening to us too.
it felt so similar looked so similar seemed so ridiculously similar and i couldn't stand it.
i didn't want it to happen to us.
(i didn't want to let you taint my memories of an angel fountain yellow roses garden and a king with a flower crown.
but seems that my efforts were fruitless, because they'd been ruined anyway.
but not by you, no! by me.)
i'm almost certain you suspected it, at times; what it was like for me.
those times when i ran to the garden and kneeled by the edge of the angel fountain and tilted my head down in the hopes of my tears being mistaken for pouring water.
did you know about it?
because i know that somewhere within this fractured heart of mine (this fractured heart of mine that i still offer to you for it seems i will never get out of this stupid first lov—no, actually. it's not stupid. you're not stupid. i apologise for calling it stupid. i'm sorry.) something yearns for you to have known.
for even if you hadn't done anything about it you'd still noticed and i, being the attention-starved person that i am would have adored to be noticed by the one i love oh-so-much.
but then it got so much too much too fast all at once and i couldn't handle it.
i am weak, you see. not strong like you are.
so i ran. sorry about that. you didn't deserve that.
but, you know, even after all these letters (even after all this ink and wasted paper) i still find myself wanting to make you that last flower crown and watch the sunlight hit the water just right and see you as that golden boy (gentle boy kind boy) just one last time.
one last time.
and i'm not sure if you've visited it recently—
(you probably haven't.
it's been a few months since i have myself and i can only hope that what i say next is true for giving you false hope is another thing i despise myself for doing.)
—but i wanted to let you know that the garden of yellow roses still stands.
the angel fountain is worn but it still stands. it still spouts water. it still lights up like amaterasu has descended when the sunlight hits it just right.
the yellow roses have been replaced but they are still as pure and as precious and as delicate as ever.
the garden is still golden and peaceful and quiet.
but, tobio it feels so empty without you there for me to braid a flower crown for.
i really want to see you again.
see you as the gentle kind sweet little boy with a particular passion for volleyball. the king i once adored.
just one last yellow flower crown. one last golden garden. one last peaceful moment with nothing but us the water the sky the clouds the sun the silent moon the birds the yellow roses and the angel fountain.
that would be nice.
i love you kageyama tobio. very, very much. it hurts a little.
so don't try to find me, okay? i'm close to getting over it.
