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It's the first day of summer. Trapped in the confines of this tall building, it's impossible to tell. I did this to myself really.
I think.
I don't remember and I couldn't tell you if it was even my own choice.
It probably was.
I had been molded strategically—maybe accidentally—to have a strong sense of justice and duty. I must be accepted by everyone, because there is no other option. It is an irrefutable expectation.
But I am not a design.
So I am not perfection.
I know all this, yet I still act the way I do. And I am weird. I blend into society perfectly, even when I don't want to. I wonder if this was created for me as well, so that I couldn't escape myself and what they wanted me to become. I apologize, because I can't even tell you who all the many "they" is.
I've been told I'm a genius. Maybe I am. I used to think so.
Now I don't think I am.
I don't even know who I really am. How could I be a genius if I excel in a world from which I wish to remain entirely detached?
Looking at the oddity I have been chained to, for the sake of proving my normalcy—my false normalcy—it has become so clear that I am not fit to be classified the way I have been. Why?
He's beautiful. He is funny and intelligent; yet he gets along with almost no one. And even though he is literally chained to the likes of me, he still refuses to conform and he still stays himself.
I said before: I am not a design.
I have never wished to be attached to the people in this world, but I have literally allowed myself to be attached to this new one.
I am not perfection. I am a façade.
Why am I even doing this? Why do I strive for acceptance from those who would never give me a chance or look at me with distaste if I simply did not look the way that I do? Everyone loves "Light" because they do not understand that Light is human, just like them.
But then, I guess I am not just like them. But I do have emotions. I do have feelings.
I can't blame them too much for not realizing this, since I myself did not realize it until recently.
Discovering my true emotions wasn't until after I got involved in the Kira case, after I was chained to the mastermind detective, and after I found myself in love with that detective.
I understand now why they—myself originally included—have shaped me to lack true emotions and to be the shiniest star: it is so that I would be detached and essentially blind to others.
Though the plan succeeded for 19 years, they have just failed. Why?
Because I love.
Because I am human.
So now that I am not perfection, what will they—myself included—do?
They will have to reject their design and discard their plan.
But that brings me to my next question, what will I become? Or will I even know how to become anything else?
Was I designed to lose what I've only just found?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I think he's 19 . . .
Aaaand that's what I've written.
If you like the way this story has gone, feel free to take it by the horns and man handle it into your own. I only ask that you reference me and tell me, so that I can read it too. I might eventually turn this into an actual story, romantic or otherwise, but it's not on the to-do list.
As a side note, it's a beautiful day outside.
~Aia~
