a/n Well, the apocalypse is upon us. The ghetto plug, my beloved 1gig USB drive, died last week (moment of silence please). It contained all of my homework, all of my music, all of my pictures, and all of my in-progress fan fiction. Bear with me while things progress incredibly slowly; and in the meantime accept this as a quickie I wrote in English class. The story borrows slightly from Please Don't Kill the Freshman (absolutely fantastic book). Anyway, R+R appreciated. Here it is.
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Dear Sasuke.
I know it seems a little odd that I'm actually writing a letter to you (even to me). I have a feeling you may never even read this – I might just keep it forever, or lock it away, or burn it or something. Maybe I'll treasure this as my last letter, my last attempt at communication with you. Then again, maybe I'll just find some other way to say what I want to say. But for now…I write.
Odd as it may be, writing to you is surprisingly easy. We see each other every day - hell, we kiss each other every day - and yet I'd rather write this right now than call you up or go over to your house or send you an email. I have things to say…we need to talk…but not now. Now, I write. With the rain pouring down outside, and smashing into my window. I'm writing, Sasuke.
You know, I've been thinking about our relationship. And sometimes, I laugh at the irony of it. How you're so smothering and possessive, how you vehemently prevent me from being anything but your own. Isn't love supposed to be a two-way street? Aren't I supposed to get at least something from this? Yet here I am, writing a letter to you when I could just talk…but I won't. Too scared. Too angry.
It's even sadder how sometimes you pretend to really enjoy it all. Revel in every act me make, every sin we commit. Attempt to rejoice when we kiss or hug or say sweet things. Then again, sometimes it's just plain sad. Aren't you supposed to love me?
Because that's it, isn't it. All you really want is me. Not the love, not the sex, not the feeling you get when you hold me close. Just me. That's the way you operate, isn't it. Like a piece of clockwork all shot to hell. That's the measure of how fucked up you really are. Well, I'm done.
I hope you get a chance to look back and really enjoy all the shit we've done. Every single damned thing. All of our kisses, all of our hugs, all of our sex. Especially…especially the kiss yesterday. I hope you liked that one, Sasuke. The way you held me too tightly, kissed me too fiercely, just like always. It was too much, right then…but I hope you enjoyed it, Sasuke. I hope you loved that kiss, Sasuke.
…It was the last.
- Naruto.
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a/n Short, I know. And a prime example of how badly I suck at angst, to boot. Oh well. Hope you at least got a kick out of the ending.
-BlackJack, AKA Metac¤gnition: A Drug for the Masses