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miya scrolled through the old messages like he was scrolling through pinterest. he reread them, over and over again, remembering the way he’d thrown the phone to the bed and sobbed and screamed when he’d received them initially, that same sense of dread filling him as he skimmed them again.
why was he doing this? he was alone in his room, it was eight thirty at night and he felt like the only person left on earth. dissociated from the present in a weird way he couldn’t really wrap his head around. he could just… stop and he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.
but he kept going, flipping through his apps so he was back on twitter, back on his account. he had scrolled all the way back to the very day that he’d received those messages. normal tweets.
my dad just smacked my moms ass lmao
dude i have naruto brainrot fuck u all for getting me into this
i love it when my brother wont leave me the fuck alone lol
like nothing had happened. like leaving miya hadn’t affected him at all, like they’d never been best friends, like he’d never told miya he thought they were “platonic soulmates” a million times, a million times, a million times.
he’d been the one to initiate the friendship.
he’d been the one to say i love you first.
and he’d been the one to leave.
it seemed like it always happened like this. miya was just flawed in the way that drew people toward him at first and then inevitably pushed them away. one, two, three, four, five, six friends. all gone. gone gone gone. he just had too “intense” of a personality. people just “needed breaks”.
we both have really intense personalities, i think that’s why i’ll need a break sometimes.
people left no matter what. it was like he was always waiting for the next person to say sorry, you’re just too much. he tried so hard not to let it affect him, but when everyone told you that you were the problem, you eventually have to consider that you’re the problem.
he had considered it. he really, really had. every behavior that could potentially make someone uncomfortable, he did away with it. until he wasn’t even himself anymore.
it wasn’t worth it, those people weren’t worth it to change himself completely, and the people who truly loved him would stay, right? so why had he left?
miya tried to tell himself he was over it, he was over him, but he’d spent half an hour going through his twitter now, and he was about to cry, and he loved him he loved him he loved him.
still. always.
he was so fucking angry. he hoped he would never make any friends ever again, and they would all realize they hated him, and he would know exactly how miya felt.
this was grief. this was agony, this was pure, unbridled fury. it had been two months, he should be over this, it had happened to him so many times before, so why did it still hurt like this, why was he still caught up, why did this always have to happen?
why?
the night that he had said he didn’t want to be friends anymore was the night miya had seriously considered suicide. he’d told his therapist this. he’d felt like it was all his fault, and maybe he still sort of did, but mostly he was just angry.
he was a coward. he ran away the moment miya set a boundary, and now he was acting like nothing had even happened.
miya wanted to die.
someone stop me from rereading these breakup texts from an exfriend
helpp
miya stared at the group chat for thirty seconds, his solitary texts glaring back at him. everyone on the S chat sucked at responding to texts in a timely manner, except for reki. he might as well have just texted the redhead individually if he really wanted an answer, but he didn’t want to worry him. he didn’t really… talk to them much. besides for S stuff. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, and they’d certainly tried to reach out to him, he just sort of… distanced himself. he hadn’t meant to.
he nearly screamed when he realized that was his fault, too. he was terrified to get close to people, he had been for a while, but he’d never connected the two things.
this was fine. he was fine.
stop 🛑
i beg
i plead
you are better than this !
miya snorted a bit despite himself, and his heart twisted as he questioned why he needed these people’s validation. they shouldn’t have to deal with him.
sorry reki
lmao
dont wanna bother u or nything
dont be sorry you can always bother me
i am constantly bored
You okay kid?
miya hesitated. joe rarely hopped on the group chat unless it was to make a joke, or if he felt like he was really needed.
im fine
sorry
Stop apologizing. I’m going to call you.
brow furrowed, miya was already halfway through typing “no don’t do that” when joe’s contact popped up on his phone. he sighed, and let it ring a few times before answering, just to drive home that he really did not want this right now.
“hi?”
“miya, are you okay? tell the truth.”
“i’m fine. i told you.” but he knew his voice was hoarse from nearly crying.
“no, you’re not. reki and i are coming to get you.”
of course he was coming. another wave of guilt hit miya like a truck. it was probably because they knew he self-harmed. he’d been clean for about a month now, but he knew they’d seen his scars, and reki had texted him about it before. miya hadn’t used to care if people saw his scars—he never had with him—but now he just felt like he was burdening people with his mental health issues if they knew. he wore long sleeves all the time, but the group had found out when he’d rolled them up at S. he hated that they cared, it felt unnecessary. going out of their way to take care of him when he could take care of himself just fine. they didn’t need to care.
“joe, i’m okay. really.” his voice cracked on really.
“yeah, right. it’s okay to have a bad night, kiddo. you can ask for help.”
miya was silent. he wasn’t going to ask for help, but buried beneath the guilt was relief at the fact that whether or not he wanted it, joe and reki were coming. if nothing else, just to keep him company. and maybe that would be alright, just for tonight.
can i hop on the call guys
im boredf out of my mind
langa wont answer my texts
my own boyfriend
guys
guysssss
Shut the absolute fuck up, Reki.
We are coming to get you, you do not need to be on the call.
love you too cherry
sorry, kaoru
<33333
miya couldn’t help but chuckle at the texts. kaoru was on the group chat more than he would ever admit, just because he secretly liked to be something of an uncle/aunt figure to the kids. even if he’d never say, miya could tell kaoru liked them.
“if you haven’t gathered, kaoru is coming as well. if you’re okay with it.” miya could hear the soft smile in joe’s voice.
“i guess,” miya muttered with all the indifference he could muster, but the corners of his mouth were still turned up. he still felt sick to his stomach, and his twitter was still open in another tab, but he wasn’t alone.
he wasn’t alone.
Why are you going to Miya’s house
It’s a school night
there’s the man of the hour !!
my wonderful fantastic partner everyone !!
we are bringing you with us <3
Okay
Can we go to Dairy Queen
god, not langa, too. miya rolled his eyes. they really got the whole gang together.
“okay, we’re about to leave. see you in a bit. hang in there, okay?”
miya heard a distant, “is he alright?” from cherry in the background as their car started.
“yeah, i’ll be okay.” a beat. “thank you, joe,” miya whispered. he closed his eyes in the near pitch-dark of his bedroom.
joe was silent, and for a moment miya thought he might’ve hung up. “anytime. i’m always here, you know?”
“i know.”
that was a lie. miya was not going to be able to directly state that he was having a danger night for a long while, but there was comfort in knowing that if he really needed to, he had people he could turn to. and—fortunately and unfortunately—those people could read him like a book. they’d always know if something was up, and they’d be there to help whether he liked it or not.
miya was in pain. every day was a new struggle, and the last few months had been one of the lowest lows he’d ever hit. but he wasn’t alone.
he wasn’t okay. he probably wouldn’t be for a long time. people left, and he hated them and felt like he would forever. he hated himself. he was wrong in all the worst places, and yet.
and yet somehow, he still had these guys. and they were coming to his house and taking him to dairy queen at eight thirty on a school night because they, inexplicably, cared about him.
right now, that could be enough.
he wasn’t alone.