MY OBSESSION | P.J.M

39.

y/n

[How much longer will it be like this? ]

I keep asking myself why you aren't back. Did you too forget about me, the way I forgot about you? Hear my heart, my arms are sore from holding what our love used to be. I've grown restless in this room. Why aren't you coming back?

I should feel happy that I have people in my life that care for me, yet I feel nothing at all. Did Jimin leave because he was not satisfied with what I did for him? Was it perhaps not enough for him to stay? I

f I wasn't enough, I'm never going to be enough.

I was once loved by someone and there is no way for me to feel that love ever again. I have no idea what it feels like to be loved, all I have are the memories that constantly remind me of my past self who knows every feeling I wish I could experience right now.

How is it possible for me to be jealous of a version of me that does not exist?

But I cannot complain, I hurt so many people so I ultimately got what I deserved. I'm locked inside of myself, and I can't blame anyone else for it but me. I wanted to fall apart on the cold floor and never pick myself up again. I want to lay there until I melt and become one with the dirty floor.

I thought I knew what love was, but even then I was nothing but a joke. Was I that funny to Taehyung? I must be fun to poke at, he was probably only with me to replace the time he couldn't spend with his therapist. Was I so love-starved that I needed to pretend that my past lover was back?

I've laid the puzzle out and I can sense that there's a major piece missing. Something so crucial, yet so hidden from me. If I only could grasp it, maybe I could solve it.

Even though I don't feel deserving of my friends, they still check up on me. I've received letters from them and a few coworkers, wishing me to heal soon. I believe that they don't know the severity of my situation. Or maybe they're pretending not to know. Maybe they're lying to me as everyone else has. They told me that they would wait for me to get better, get to my senses, whatever that means. I should feel grateful that they care, but I hate that they pity me. It feels like they are mocking me and looking down on me.

It's incredibly hard to gather information while I'm locked up in a box with no access to the outside world, except for the occasional letters and the news on the television. Because of my criminal record, I'm not allowed to have any visitors.

I only receive letters once in a blue moon, and I happen to get one today.

It was different, the paper was rougher, and had a slightly off-white color. Truthfully, I hesitated before opening it, I wasn't sure if I was making something up out of nothing or if this letter could be from somebody new.