Johns POV
I stopped believing a long time ago. I told myself time and time again. I stopped believing. Who did I stop believing in? Him. No, not him as in the almighty god. Him as in Dave Strider.
It was just after school had ended for the holidays. We had walked to his house together, like most weekends. I was going to spend a few days at his house with him and his older brother, Dirk, but more commonly known as Bro.
We were cleaning up after dinner - his brother long gone to other places, when Dave suddenly stopped and looked at me. I felt incredibly nervous. He's never looked at me like that before. Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me. And I just stood there, far too shocked to respond. To be honest, I have had a giant crush on him for the longest time. It'd be safe to say I'm in love with Dave. My best bro. And he was kissing me. He broke the kiss off, looking me in the eyes. "I love you," he whispered.
So we played happy couple for the next few months. Until it all fell apart. Dave became closed off, unwillingly to talk so openly like he used to. Shutting me out. Of course, he thinks he was being subtle about it. But me? I noticed. Of course I did. And I began to doubt myself. Did he actually love me? Had I done something wrong? I tried to talk to him, to ask if something was wrong. He just smiled and told me nothing was wrong and I should stop worrying so much. Oh Dave. How I wished I could believe that!
But I kept believing anyway. Hoping one day my old Dave would come back to me. Or he'd talk to me.
But he didn't.
It's been almost a year.
I stopped believing a few months back.
He never really loved me.
Nor loved himself.
I was such a fool.
How did I not notice more? I should've done a better a job of looking out for him.
I lost him.
Dave killed himself last month.
I was stupid.
My Dave. My beautiful, lovely Dave.
Gone. By my ignorance.
I wish I kept believing.
