Dear Lenny
Medicine. It's such a profound word, isn't it? There is a medicine for everything these days, in the form of drugs, in the form of pills, in the form of some stern talking. You know why I went into medicine, don't you? You know how much my brother meant to me. He was the sweetest, funniest, most influential guy I had ever known; the man I looked up to and related to. And hell, the failings of medicine with the combination of bad luck took him away at all but 24 years old. Stupid me, thinking I'd find answers, but hey, pretty much everything I do is stupid.
I don't mind anymore about people mocking me, and my "geekiness" and my "naivety". It's like I'm immune to it, like how somebody becomes immune to chickenpox after having. That statement doesn't entirely ring true-you don't really become immune after having it, but that's beside the point. I hate being a geek; no, I hate myself, every single inch of myself. I hate my incapacity to engage in conversation, my inability to do anything right in the ED, my failure to make my brother proud, things blowing up in my face on every single God damn attempt. I hate these stupid glasses, this stupid haircut, and this stupid awkwardness that I can't get rid off, no matter how much I tried, no matter how many books on self confidence and social anxiety I read, no matter how many times I typed on Google, no matter how many times the useless therapist lectured on about "targets".
May, oh May. You had no idea how much I loved her. She was my world, and I would do anything for her. In hindsight, I wanted her to be delighted with me, and think that Yuki was awesome, and Yuki would take her off her feet and carry her away some sickly old fairy like tale. But no, why the hell would a beautiful girl like May want the class geek who was easy to manipulate, and foolishly lenient. I wouldn't have cared if she had beaten me up every single day; I would have had her and that was all that would matter. It's "love"-only, it was one sided.
Did you have a personality transplant? Because, before I went, you weren't so nice. You were just the annoying housemate I happened to work with and I never passed a second thought. In fact, I saw you as just downright rude and annoying, but I wouldn't say it in fear of making enemies.
Why were you so nice to me when I came back? It's not like I was dying-sure, a few bruises here, dehydration there, but it was okay, right? Got discharged the next day, right? Right as rain, except, there was this huge gaping hole, the thunder cloud disrupting the peace, and all that could be done was to wait for the hole to heal, like, medicine. Only, there are no drugs for a broken heart, apart from good old Lenny to smile, and cheer you up, and give you a hug.
It didn't mean anything, though, did it? It was all out of concern rather than anything else, treating me like a patient. Only, it felt like a lot more than that. I felt loved. And I hate to say it-It sounds completely crazy, completely abrupt, completely unlike me-but, I fell in love with you too.
But again, why would anyone want to be with a shy, lonely, troubled geek like me? You did a hell of a lot better-Michelle or Marie or whatever her name is. Always the first in line for a flirty night out, and there's me sat in the outskirts, telling myself to keep inside the feelings of jealousy and anger and complete and utter worthlessness, buying drinks for Zoe so she would continue mouthing off and being outspoken and cheeky. That's even if I go out with you at all; these days are spent alone with the microscope, an empty home for an empty heart.
You watched Wall-E with me, didn't you? Wall-E is so alone until Eve loves him back. I wish you would love me back. Maybe you do. Either way, I could never say, you know what I'm like, stumbling on words, messing everything up. It's all okay to you and everyone else if I just curl up in my room and not leave until work. It doesn't matter, because Yuki's shy and Yuki likes to be on his own. What person likes to be on his own though? Where did you get that assumption from? Perhaps the fact that I do just that to myself a lot. I take full responsibility because it's not like anyone locked me in my room, its four walls all too monotone and all too familiar. It's just that I don't feel like facing the world today; I didn't yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that one.
When I lie in bed and listen to you talking away to your girlfriend, I imagine that you would just curl up next to me, but it doesn't happen. It's come close though. You come in to say if I'm okay, if I want anything from the shop or to eat, and my answer is always the same to the first question. "I'm fine, Lenny, don't worry about me!"
It's the answer that officially makes me the stupidest person on Earth. The thing is, I'm scared what would happen if I said no. I don't want to cry, and I really don't want to see you cry either, and if I told you how I really felt, then you'd be upset and you'd panic and maybe you wouldn't even believe me. Maybe you'd think it was for the attention, and you probably wouldn't be too far off the mark-probably, as in, I don't even know myself anymore. You've been through enough heartache for yourself, and I wish I was better at the bromance thing, because I really messed my chances up.
I'm sorry it's come to this. I don't know what state you'll find me in, probably a bad one, and that's if you even find me at all. You stick your head around the door less and less these days. I'm sorry if I hurt you, and I'm sorry for not confiding in you too, and I'm sorry that I love you so much, because you deserve more than me. So live your life, Lenny. Be a great doctor, become a consultant, kiss a girl, hang out with Jay, start a family-you don't need me, nobody does.
Be happy.
Yuki x