"Dude, you just need to get fucking laid."
I didn't talk to a lot of people at my university, and this advice I received from an acquaintance (I'd hardly call him even that) was a prime example of why. After for some reason admitting I wasn't looking for a new relationship due to not being over a certain ex, this was the response I had gotten. And I decided, you know what? Fuck it. Why not go out and get drunk and get laid.
Looking around the bar, I couldn't find one damn person I wanted to take home. I may have been drunk off my ass while looking for someone to fumble clumsily into bed with, but I did have some requirements I wanted fulfilled by a temporary bedmate. For example, their hair being the right shade of brown, so that if they spent the night and I decided to be affectionate I could nuzzle into the brunet locks and maybe just pretend it was him. Or, perhaps, if they had some rogue on their cheeks or they were just naturally rosy, then I could imagine that it was an innocent blush of an underclassmen. It would be particularly nice if my partner for the night was smaller than myself so that they fit in my arms just a little better, so it felt a little more right, so I could trick my subconscious into thinking that tiny frame cuddling against me was him and for once I could sleep peacefully. If one out of any of these possible things could be accomplished, I'd be satisfied. You could call me obsessive, I guess. It's probably insane.
I had brought one particular guy back to my place because his eyes were the perfect shade of green. During our soon to be sloppy and desperate actions of the night, I could look into his eyes and maybe just pretend that what we were doing wasn't meaningless, that there was love between us, that there was something there, no matter how much it hurt once I remembered that this was another stranger looking for momentary pleasure.
"Do you care if I call you Ritsu?" My words were a little slurred and I was enough of an asshole and drunk enough not to worry about whether or not it'll offend him. We had both just gotten to my place, not even a piece of clothing shed before I shamelessly asked the question. Luckily for me, instead of receiving a slap to the face, he just gave an amused laugh.
"Sure, I don't care. Is that an ex of yours or something?" He tilted his head to the side slightly, those green eyes looking much to mischievous to be my Ritsu's eyes, and his smile much too teasing to be my Ritsu's smile, and his hair was too dark, and his body was too skinny, and his cheeks were too pale, and-
"Whoa, hey, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry." He said quickly, eyes wide with panic and I realize they now look closer to my Ritsu's before I realize I'm crying.
"Oh-fuck-god fucking-" I put my head in my hands, body shaking with sobs that I had been allowing to build up for weeks now. He shifted uncomfortably, hesitantly putting a hand on my back, trying to comfort my pathetic form.
"Uh, you seem like you've got some major baggage man, I know this probably isn't how either of us expected this night to end, but we could like...talk about it?"
I looked up at him and almost laughed. It was a comical situation, even I could admit. Two people looking to fuck anything with a heartbeat just ending the night talking? Despite the ridiculousness of it all, I find myself nodding anyways. He smiles a little nervously and it makes my alcohol-drenched heart clench painfully.
"Alright, so tell me about this 'Ritsu,"
I recounted the events of that irritatingly naive, unbelievably sheltered, stupidly sincere, beautifully nervous, amazingly caring, and generously loving boy that had squished himself into the cracks of my heart to fill it with warmth. My once dull, isolated, cynical life had become colorful because of this anxious whirlwind named Oda Ritsu.
"And then it all fucking went to shit, just like fucking everything does," I managed to say before sniffling. "He fucking kicked me in the head before running out my room for and disappearing off the face of the fucking Earth for no reason. I waited for hours every damn day in that library for him, I looked for him for as long as I could, asked around for him, but everyone claimed not to know an 'Oda Ritsu'. God, am I just fucking crazy? Do-do I sound fucking crazy? Did I just make him up? Was he never fucking real in the first place? Do you think I'm crazy?" At this point I barely knew what I was even saying anymore and just rambled incoherently. I doubt he made any of it out either, but he continued to nod, at least looking like he understood.
"I don't think you're crazy." He said after I finished my long-winded, incomprehensible sob story. I gave him an irritated look, but once again he only laughed. "Okay, I think you're a little crazy, but not in the way you think. You're crazy for this Ritsu guy that's for sure. And if you and Ritsu are meant to be or whatever then you'll eventually end up crossing paths again don't you think?"
I couldn't help but to scoff. "That kind of shit only happens in shoujo mangas." He smiled in response to me.
"Well, if you two don't meet again, then you'll meet someone else, right? And Oda Ritsu will just be like a bad dream." He offered, but I didn't want that to be the case. I let out a shaky sigh and rubbed my face, mumbling an apology as this wasn't the direction I had wanted to take this night in.
"Don't even worry about it, there's nothing to apologize for." He assured me. "I think you needed this more than some one night stand." He added.
He left a little while later, waving goodbye. "Goodnight, Takano-san. I hope you figure things out." He said and I suddenly felt guilty for not recalling his name. I mumbled a goodnight before dragging myself into bed. Hugging my pillow tightly to my chest, I realize the object is far too soft and compressible to substitute the feeling of a person, but it's the best I can do. I weigh his words silently as I shut my eyes. Meeting Ritsu again is unlikely, so I suppose I'll have to go the other route. Maybe that guy from earlier was right. Maybe I just need to get laid.