It's been half a month~

At 4 a.m., I woke up in the darkness, fumbling around for my phone. I found it right away and sent you a message. You actually replied instantly. But you needed your rest too, so I didn't keep the conversation going. When I went out in the morning, I hit my head on that low door lintel. It hurt like hell. After finishing my morning work, by noon, I briefly poured my heart out to a friend. The truth is, I'm really, really dependent on friends. So I asked a small question: if my mental state gets particularly bad, would you be willing to stay with me, or would you prefer I handle it myself? I was afraid that if I came to you when my mental state was bad, you'd think I was too negative and that I should probably work through it myself. Yet I was also afraid you'd think you needed to be there for me at times like this, and that not saying anything would be bad. So I asked you. You said if I was really sad, I should come to you, and you'd respond. I'm much more dependent on friends than you imagine. Since high school, friends have been my Achilles' heel, I suppose. Happiness comes from friends; all kinds of emotional value come from them. So I love making friends, but I don't love deep friendships. Only when I've decided someone will be a friend for life do I consider a deep friendship. As the saying goes, friends are the family we choose—beings who fit us better. They can handle things family can't, bring us things family can't. You think I need friends and shouldn't always rely on one person. I read between the lines—you might be afraid you can't bear this emotion, wanting me to make more friends. But in fact, I'm not trying to force you or do anything to you. It's good to just get along naturally. Like we said yesterday, feelings need to flow like a gentle stream. In the evening, I saw your game account climbing rapidly while I was still stuck at a low rank. So after work, I immediately opened the game. Finally, after three hours, I ranked up a little. It was really hard. You said you were quite naughty as a child. Actually, I was very naughty too. Flames wrapped around the rice stalks, small shrimp playing in the river, climbing the high mountains of the countryside, walking on rural paths, watching bird catchers set their traps, playing games on the riverbanks and dams, picking wild fruits, catching cicadas—walking and running everywhere. I've had quite a lot of experiences, but when it comes to friends, I truly don't have such deep bonds as you do. We meet through mutual benefit, and when the benefit ends, so does the fate. There are indeed many I can chat with, but those who truly understand me are only one or two. I don't really like letting friends know me too well. I'm better at using masks to hide myself. If I don't want to break down the high walls and remove the disguise, no one knows my story, and no one wants to. They can't handle my story anyway; I still have to deal with it myself. Wanting to tell you and my close friends is just because I want you to understand me. I handle the problems myself. You and friends can be a catalyst, speeding up the resolution. We chat so little. You don't like talking about daily trivialities, so I try not to mention them. You like the idealistic, the intangible. When I'm in that mental state, I like it too—talking about future things. I love you, so my affection for you is flawless. My possessiveness is indeed strong, but I'm restraining myself, no longer showing it, because I don't want to be your shackles. We are both free. I can give all my special favor to you—this is my choice. As for your choice, it temporarily doesn't affect the choice I make. So you can accept this affection calmly. When your choices affect mine, I'll adjust as much as possible. When I can't adjust, I'll appropriately ask for your opinion. My love won't be so submissive. In my view, liking you, I can change, but I can't be completely submissive. I love you. Having known you for half a month, I'm very happy.

How on earth can I love you

I found that even two hours of sleep still keeps me wide awake. I don't know why. My anxious attachment—I'm so, so afraid of losing you. I thought you wouldn't send any messages, because until evening, our conversation was the thinnest it could be. But luckily, we played games together at night. First place every single time—I really give up; I just can't beat you at all. I really want to know what happened that made you not want to talk. I don't want to press you either, so I just stay stuck in overthinking—saying less, doing less, not daring to ask. I'm afraid of losing you. I really, really want to see you. Once a week is truly too little. I truly love you. I love deep conversations. In front of you, I instinctively took off my mask to see if you could accept the real me. I also want to know the real you—your vulnerability, your messiness, even your misfortunes. I'm not as good as your friends right now, but I'm still trying, repairing our relationship, perfecting our bond. Love is inherently a slow, flowing stream; it's just that I love too urgently, I'm too anxious. But I instinctively feel happiness. In my unfortunate self, I instinctively long to possess. I love you, so I will work out. I want to become a better version of myself. I will learn to take care of my skin. I will remember your preferences—not because I want to deliberately please you, but simply because I love you. The very fact of wanting to be with you is itself the reason that makes me better. My anxious attachment can't be changed, but I'm also instinctively holding it back. Just like I said—because it annoys you, I don't do it. But I still overthink on my own. Because that's you. Because I love you.

I love you

Because of the air conditioning, plus my chronic rhinitis, my nose got completely stuffed up. You didn't rest well. I slept from past three until seven. Then the aimless hours began—gaming, waiting. At eleven, I wanted to see what the light outside was like. I accidentally opened the curtains from the middle, and the light shone directly on your face. It was so intense that it woke you up instantly. I felt so sorry.

Between seven and eleven, I heard you talking in your sleep, even some cries of distress. I didn't know how to comfort you or bear witness to your stories. You deserve to be loved by everyone. Don't blame yourself.

My experiences have made me sensitive. My brain never stops. Even when I don't have to, I really can't help but think. You said I'm too idle, too bored. So after we parted... I wanted to maintain that non-idle state too, but I can't. Just like now, I'm still thinking—thinking about so many inexplicable things, so many things that haven't even happened.

I like you. It's been half a month since I met you. These two weeks have made me incredibly happy. Whenever I'm in a terrible mental state, I really want to make peace with myself. I want to let my past self go, let my present self go. But I can't.

I instinctively want to be good to you. I want to take good care of you. Although I'm still not healed, old wounds and new ones haven't closed. But so what?

You always say you're a scumbag, or mention other gossip. But so what? I like you. This is my choice. Just like you said, I can keep liking you. Whether you accept it or not is up to you. This is the first time I've liked someone—passionate, sincere, childish, ridiculous...

I'm emotional about everything—work, life, friends. I'm the anxious type. My anxiety outweighs my depression. There are many things I haven't controlled well. Like wanting to see you—I'm definitely very, very impatient about it. My love is like this too. But I've also learned to wait. Waiting for your game to end, waiting for you to reply when you're ready.

I love you. I respect all your choices. Love yourself before loving others. I will try to love myself too. This is so, so much harder than loving you. I feel like I don't deserve love. I'm starved for love. I've never felt it. So I don't know—a delicious lunch, a tasty soda—these don't count as love to me. They don't come close to chatting with you, meeting you, all those things. Seeing that your birthday is only a dozen days from mine.

I'm changing...

I love you, so I am waiting.

This is our happiness

Today is Friday, and we're going to meet. These past few days, I've been relying on AI to write code, and I didn't pay close enough attention to the details. My boss called me out on it. But in the afternoon, my boss comforted me. After that meeting ended, I left in a hurry—because I wanted to see you. I ran as fast as I could, rushing straight to you. I wanted to see you...

Simple small talk, sharing a bed with you, watching TV—that's enough. This is the life I want.

I don't want this to end. I can't give up.

Seeing the screenshot you sent me of reaching Master tier made me so happy—you finally made it there. And the messages you sent me too... the misunderstanding between us is finally cleared up. I really, really want to be with you. I've never loved anyone before, so I have no experience, but I'm learning—from videos, from everywhere I can. I'm human, not a god. I'll try my best to make fewer mistakes. Please give me some time. Today, I think we spoke the least we ever have. I watched your stream tonight. The first game was the brothers' match—Yasuo and Yone. Such a shame how it ended. I will try so, so hard to prove it—to prove how much I love you. So please don't give up easily. I won't give up either. I want to love only one person for the rest of my life.