Message One: Love?
It's not something you can just sit down and ignore. You can't walk away from something that physically feels like a grand canyon.
Why can't anyone love me, for me?
When you say it, write it, read it, or think it those small words just come so naturally and so simply. Yet the answer that is supposed to follow along afterwards, forever remains blank. A constant flashing cursor bar on a computer screen, an empty line on a page, a silent head ach, and a speechless voice.
And maybe I'm being stupid, constantly trying to find an answer to this question but it feels like if I don't get an answer my life will feel incomplete. I've been told I'm too young to be thinking something like this, that when I've reached that certain age I'll finally be able to take the time and ponder on this situation.
Truth is I don't want to take the time; I don't want to wait another ten or more years to think about this because truthfully, I don't think I could handle it as greatly as I can now. I don't know how I would react to it. Would I suddenly figure out the answer to life's unrecognized but always thought about answer?
Or would I just sit somewhere alone and scream into a pillow and cry my pent up tears?
So maybe this isn't the right time in my life to ask myself this, I can understand that, I haven't had a lot of people in my life.
But when is the right time? Is there a certain day when I do ask myself this question?
Why can't anyone love me, for me?
I want someone to love me.
Really fall in love with me.
I want it to be that classic, walk through a doorway, eyes meet, and two minds say at once, 'this person is it.'
I want someone who looks at me and sees an individual who likes to read novels, who likes to play board games, who likes to eat at home, who likes to watch movies on a couch with popcorn, who likes to go on the internet and just surf.
I want someone who, when asked 'who do you love', will quickly reply with a smile, "Ryou Bakura."
"I love Ryou Bakura."
The cursor flashes at a steady beat, and something inside of him is spent. The only light in the room is from the pale blue glow of the laptop.
He doesn't get up out of the chair; he just sits back and contemplates why he had this sudden urge to write this drivel. Why was it that all of the sudden that question popped in his head, why did his fingers start to itch begging to feel the keys of the keyboard underneath them? Why did he write this?
Reading it, it almost makes no sense to him; it was entirely random... yet it was satisfying at the same time.
Was this his subconscious telling him that he was lonely? That he needed someone?
He couldn't help but wonder if maybe what was making him feel so alone was for that very fact.
He was alone.
And maybe it would be cliché to say 'it hit him like a ton of bricks', but it did. He found it rather funny; how you never realize how much you need something until you actually think about it, write about it.
He wanted to hear those words, he wanted to hear someone say, "I love you." And mean them. He didn't want to have to worry if he was doing everything perfect for someone; he just wanted to feel at ease.
Still he sat, wondering if he should continue, wondering what he should do next. The light reflected off his face and shone in his eyes, catching him in a moment of extreme thought.
No. He finally decided.
It was fine the way it was.
A bell chime sounded and the light was distinguished, and a squeak came from the chair as it slowly made a few 360-degree turns.
He felt refreshed somehow, as if he had gotten rid of stress that had been piling up on him as of late, he silently wondered if he would be able to get any real sleep that night. A voice far back in his mind hissed in ecstasy 'Yes...'
And that was all he needed to know.
Beams of sunshine fell upon his face, and it hurt his eyes even if they were closed. He was having such a nice dream about someone running his or her fingers through his hair all night.
A gurgle escaped his lips and he was a little disgusted to find a slight trail of drool clinging to the corner of his lips. He stretched his hands high towards the ceiling clasping them together and pulling them higher and higher until he heard the tell tale bone popping and cracking from sleeping.
Pulling the covers away from his lower body, and taking the time to wipe the sleep from his eyes he distantly registered that he should have turned his laptop off...
His head snapped up looking straight at the screensaver playing.
He had turned his laptop off. What was it doing on?
He scrambled from his bed crossing the small space to his computer desk and jiggled the mouse to remove the screen saver. His message was saved on his desktop, he remembered doing that, but there was now a notebook icon on his desktop as well.
He dragged his mouse over to the icon and double clicked. A small white box popped up. There was nothing written save for three words, and those three words brought a smile to his face. He wanted to know who wrote this message. Short, sweet and straight to the point.
He wanted to know, he needed to know, so could say thank you.
With an extra bounce in his step he dressed for another summer's day, and whistling a merry tune. The day just seemed that much brighter, and he had someone to meet, thank, and love.
The laptop was left with the text message open, for the entire world to see.
Three simple words that makes the heart feel light.
'You are loved.'
Who is in love with Ryou!?
If any of you have actually read my other stories... you would know the answer...
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