“Sorry.”
At the end of summer break, you were right there, waiting in the usual spot. Nothing had been fake. We’d become an item, our relationship was on the rocks from something really stupid, and the feelings that had once filled me a year earlier had grown faint.
“Good morning, Irido-kun.”
“Morning.”
I wished it had all been fake. That everything had happened in my head. That it had been a delusion. If none of our relationship had happened in the real world, then I might still have liked myself.
But there you were. You greeted me even though we hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Didn’t you get it? That there was no stronger sense of despair than this?
“Uh... Did you finish the summer homework?” you’d asked.
Even then, at our worst, we may have been able to fix things. We could’ve put our uneventful summer vacation behind us and gotten back together. There must’ve been something I could have said to make that happen. But still, I couldn’t forgive you or myself. So instead, I...
“Yeah. Not like I had any plans or anything.”
You froze up a little. And then, the very long process of self-hate began.
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