what if?

intro

Ryujin picks up her guitar, strumming once. Her thumb and index finger drag lazily along the neck, stopping to pinch a peg. The piece is cold, likely due to the weather. Pulling down her sleeve will disrupt her playing, though. Unless her emotions beat her to it.

Few take the time to get to know her. When they do, they never last. Long story short, except for a couple special cases, friends have broken her heart enough times to make her question if she is the problem.

Roughly a year ago, someone came along and tried to prove her assumptions wrong. Successful to some degree, Ryujin keeps this one at arm's length, deeply afraid of hurting in the end.

It was easier to be stubborn and maintain distance. She did so with ease. Yet, as time passed, someone unexpected 'held' her hand. And when they told Ryujin everything would be okay, for the first time in years, she believed it.

She strums a second chord. The bracelet on her wrist clanks against the guitar, and her heart aches at the sound. Her free hand moves to clutch her shirt. This feeling is still so new. It's been a while since then. Long enough, at least. Shouldn't she feel better by now? Was she in love?

Ryujin wonders if she hadn't tried hard enough. Or if she didn't show all she had to offer as a potential partner and friend. But this is what she does, blaming herself for any fallout. It's a habit she has yet to grow out of and she blames her past for that.

Sometimes Ryujin sits in her backyard to kill time. Some days she thinks about work, others about something her 'friends' mentioned or a film or show she's watched recently. Today she wanted to pick at the guitar strings, maybe hum along to soft lyrics. Inevitably this exposed her inability to take the thought of her favorite what if off the shelf. All they did repeats over and over again in her head. Their memories together are episodes of her life she'll replay till the end of time.

She strums again, taps her foot for two four-beat measures, counting herself in. Cold fingertips press against the strings.

"I'm fearless but I still fear- " Ryujin stumbles before she can even finish the line. A tear threatens to trickle down her cheek. "You'll disappear... "

Usually, sitting outside at night helps put her mind at ease. Perhaps it was a poor song choice given the circumstances.

"She already did." Ryujin reminds herself.

Ryujin wouldn't say she's absolutely heartbroken... but she's convinced she falls somewhere close on the spectrum. Prior to the end, she had already believed these feelings were stronger than any past experiences. However, they stretched deeper than she realized.

"She just had to set the bar so high." Ryujin chuckles because, if she doesn't, she'll cry. She sets the guitar down on the grass. Getting out of the house and finding something to do might prove beneficial.