Gosh, this is an old one. Back from…forever ago, actually. But I found it, and salvaged the really rubbish bits because I still rather like it. Changed the end too, for those of you who might have read this while it was up last time. Yamato POV, I don't own Digimon. Enjoy.
MISSED ME
Missed me.
Missed me.
Now you've gotta kiss me.
I rarely get to say that. You've always been a lot faster than me. At almost everything, actually.
You probably won't miss next time. You don't often miss.
I'm right; you don't miss the next time. The golf ball that I dodged before hits me on the shoulder. I'm going to have a huge bruise there in the morning, but that's ok because it's only you that threw it.
You're my best friend.
Yes, I know you didn't miss that time. You hit me. Yes, it does hurt, but I'm not going to tell you that because it'll make you feel bad. I probably couldn't admit to anyone hurting me anyway.
You don't need to apologise so much. I wish you wouldn't. It makes me feel bad, even when I haven't done anything.
Like now.
I'm not going to tell you that either, though.
Because I care about you. I don't want you to feel bad.
I'll say it again. You're my best friend in the whole world.
Missed me.
Missed me.
Now you've gotta kiss me.
…
Why did you just kiss me?
Yes, I know I said it. It's a meaningless chant. Have you never heard it?
Why did you take it seriously?
…
No, you don't.
You don't.
You can't
That's sick. You're supposed to be my best friend. My best male friend. You don't fancy me. It's disgusting and horrible and impossible.
…
You definitely don't love me. I won't let you. That's even worse.
Don't shout at me, you fag. It's gross. I don't want to hear it.
Yes, it is gross. Guys aren't meant to want other guys. It's really, really wrong. Yes it is. Why were girls put on the earth if guys were supposed to fancy each other? Answer me that.
See? You can't, can you? Besides, a guy doesn't just wake up in the morning and decide that he's in love with his best friend.
…
What do you mean by that?
…
…no. Not possible. That was years ago. We've done loads since then. School projects, sleepovers, gone to see films…we've even talked about hot girls. You can't just suddenly tell me you're gay after all that stuff you said those times. Oh…you lied…how wonderful. So all those times when you had your arm round me, all those times you were looking at me in gym, and after gym…it was all…
I think I'm going to be sick.
Get away from me.
Missed me.
Missed me.
Now you've gotta kiss me.
Heh; you've never liked being mocked, have you?
Don't turn your back on me. I won't let you ignore me.
You want to be left alone. Well, that's just tough, isn't it? I'm not going to leave you alone now.
I see that your black eye is getting better. I have wondered a few times what you told your parents and sister about that. You probably said it was some jerk you got into a fight with. Which, I suppose, is true in a way. But you'd never tell them that I did it, would you?
I thought not.
I hope you're happy with what you've caused.
I hate you.
You say that it's impossible for me to hate you after all those years of such close friendship. I think you will find, my friend, that it's not impossible at all, after learning that you were only my friend because you wanted to get into my pants.
I disgust you, do I? Not as much as you disgust me.
I bet you still think I'm hot, don't you?
Yes.
I bet you want to kiss me again. Do you?
Of course you do.
What about fuck me? Do you want to fuck me too?
I thought so. It's repulsive to think about.
I think you miss me, too. Do you miss me?
I don't miss you. I'm more than happy with my straight friends.
Missed me.
Missed me.
Now you've gone forever.
And a good thing, too. There were too many queers in the world as it was, without you joining the ranks.
All mockery aside, though – how could you do that to me? I thought we were best friends. No, that's wrong. We were best friends. We were as good as it got. Then you go and ruin it all. It's not fair.
Then again, I wouldn't want to go back and change anything. The thought of you being in love with me behind my back is nauseating
I still find it difficult to get my head around, sometimes. You were gay, and I never noticed.
How could I be so blind? What was the matter with me?
There are even times when I see you. Just out of the corner of my eye. But you're not there when I turn around to taunt you.
You're never going to be there again.
I've been having dreams about you, too. You're usually running and I'm chasing you, but I eventually lose sight of you because you're faster than me. Then I wake up and I feel like I've lose you, even though I know that you're not there to lose anymore.
I hope that doesn't make me a pansy too.
You know what? I think about you far too much, and I'm sick of it. I thought you'd disappeared from my life, but it turns out that you keep coming back. I don't want you to. I never want to think about you again. I hope you rot, and wish to forget you ever existed.
So. Who are you?
I'm a tad happier now, even though I'm still not entirely satisfied. Oh well. What d'ya think? Review?