Posted in Headcanon

If only it isn’t love

Oh how he wish it isn’t love.

He stares at the empty chair in front of him. His lover has just left to the toilet, leaving him alone on their dinner table. And he can’t help but to wonder where the fuck did it all went wrong.

Don’t get him wrong, it’s not like they just had fight or anything. On the contrary, dinner was really pleasant. Both of them were in a good mood, sharing stories about what happened during the last two weeks they’ve been away. He even got to hear “I miss you” several times, and he should be happy. He knows well he should.

But how can he, when he knows that this moment will end soon? How can he be happy when he knows that come the morning light, his lover would leave again?

He’s not being a clingy boyfriend, he really don’t. But he’s starting to get tired of this charade of relationship that they have. Patience is his virtue, and he could cope with the small amount of free time that his lover had. He never ask much, and so he’s okay even if they only meet once every few weeks, or even once a month. He could bear with the fact that despite being in the same city, they have to sneak around to be able to meet.

It’s not the hiding, never was. He knew they could never be upfront about their relationship – not for the time being, at least, because there’s no place for them in this society.

He’s just tired of deluding himself.

Tired of pretending that he’s being loved when he wasn’t. Tired of thinking that the attention and affection he got was genuine, when in fact it was just given to keep him around. Tired of having to act in front of the only person he could be himself with.

He can’t no longer turn a blind eye on the fact that they seek different things. He wants a relationship, a genuine long term one where they could settle together somewhere in the future. But his lover only wants his companionship, despite insisting otherwise. Despite insisting that they both pour the same effort to make this relationship work.

Because he’s madly in love, but his lover doesn’t.

And maybe, it’s time that he’s being honest about it. It would be quick and easy, if only he’s not in love.

When his lover walks back to the table with distraught expression, however, he can’t help but to worry. “You’re alright?” he asks, and his lover smiles.

A smile that takes his breath away, along with the words that got his resolve undone.

“As long as I have you, I’ll be okay.”

Oh how he wish it isn’t love, for this love made him unable to say anything but, “I’m always yours.”

If it isn’t love, then maybe he could have walk away.

But he’s in love, and he would do anything to keep his lover by his side.

It would hurt, but love always does. And this man in front of him worth all the pain in the world.

 

 

 

À la mort.

 

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Author:

An emotionally invested enthusiast of pop culture. Apathetic by design. Aesthetically offensive and eloquently candid. A sentimental heathen.

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