He left me to live like a king. He left me to go back from where he came, to forget. He tried to get me to forget, but I never will.
He came into my life, and when we met, he said he was a cannibal. We became friends nonetheless.
I quickly learned that he was a different kind of cannibal than the definition. Not the kind where human eats human flesh. No, where he came from, cannibal was a term that meant that you were gay. That you are gay.
I swallowed my tears because no German like I should have to deal with feelings such as these. Truth be told, when he announced he was leaving, I broke. Snapped in two, one part of me staying, my physical self, the other going. My will left me, and I didn't understand the sudden unwillingness to do anything. He entered my life as an oblivious, annoying, fun-loving Italian. He left as a friend, but clearly didn't think the same of me when he left.
"Feliciano," I mumbled. I kept repeating his name, in hopes of it turning into useless sounds. "Feliciano." I wanted to scream. I wanted for him to come back, the only true friend I'd ever had. But he mustn't have felt mutual about it, because he left. He left my side.
I slammed my head against the wall of my room. It was raining outside. Rain. The perfect tangible comparison to the way I felt. I sat in my room in darkness and silence, just watching the precipitation being illuminated by the street light set close to my house. I wanted so badly to forget. At least then, I'd not feel pain.
Suddenly there came a knock on my door. "Mr. Germany, sir? Are you still awake?" Japan.
"Yes. I'm awake."
"I've received a letter for you. It appears to be from the country of Italy."
Hope swelled inside me. Maybe he wanted to apologize. Maybe he would come back. Maybe, I suddenly realized, he left because of something I did. "Or didn't do," I whispered.
"Come in." Japan quickly handed me the letter and retreated to the hallway again, closing my door behind him. I hurriedly ripped it open and read the first few lines. My eyes opened wide. I simply couldn't believe it. I read aloud the last few lines.
"We have reason to believe that he is of importance to you, since he wouldn't stop yelling 'Doitsu! Doitsu!' when we were interrogating him. So, if you ever want to see your pasta-eating wimp again, meet us in Russia, no later than the beginning of the next month. Otherwise, it'll be the end of the line."
My heart nearly stopped. He had been trapped. Feliciano thought he was going back to Italy to live a better life than he was offered in Germany. He had been led right into a trap. Feliciano's parting words came back to me now.
"Doitsu! I have to go now. I'm being offered a great life back in my home!" I had grabbed a hold of his wrist and made eye connection, beginning to fall apart.
"Feliciano. I want you to call me Ludwig. We're friends, remember?"
"Doitsu... Call me Italy. I want you to forget. Forget me." I let my grasp on his wrist loosen before letting it go completely.
"Felicia- I mean Italy... You're my only friend. Please, don't go." Somehow, I had managed to keep a straight face through all of it. My eyes betrayed my face and voice. My eyes screamed. My eyes were bearing into his soul, looking for an explanation. My eyes were begging. Feliciano gave me a weak smile, turned, and walked away. Walked out of my life, leaving me behind.
Self-realization hit. I knew why I wanted for Feliciano to return so badly. "I love you, Feliciano," I breathed, only myself to hear.