I am such an asshole.
Really.
She should hate me, she should hate me to death.
Mom was right when she told her, I couldn't see myself clearly.
I was despicable and arrogant.
Immature and disgusting.
Always unable to see my own feelings.
She always hung out with a guy from the grade below her during high school.
At the time, I was full of ridicule inside.
She had been clinging to me, but suddenly switched her focus.
I ridiculed her for being fickle, telling myself I was free now.
But I couldn't help paying attention to them.
Later, on the last day of our year of high school, the guy from the grade below came looking for her, but she wasn't there.
Someone outside urged him to hurry, so he handed me some things.
It was a letter and a handcrafted cup.
He had a serious look on his face, but his ears were slightly red.
He insisted I give the items to her, and only left after repeating the instruction several times.
After he left, I opened the letter.
It contained stilted greetings and contact information.
I tore up the letter expressionlessly and threw it, along with the cup, into the trash.
I scoffed, thinking how could someone who moved abroad still care about her, what terrible taste.
...
Later, I looked at the final results of university.
I should have been happy because I could finally escape her in college, and the rumors would disappear.
But I wasn't.
Not at all.
I was extremely agitated.
This agitation didn't subside until I filled out my university application.
Everyone said I should go to a better university.
But I didn't.
I convinced myself that I chose this way to take care of Mom.
Even though there was a better university in the neighboring city nearby.
But I still deceived myself.
...
In college, I had her deliver meals to my team.
I told many people that it was because she had free time, and that she could learn from it.
But only I knew that it was because I wanted her to keep showing up around me.
I wanted others to see the relationship between us.
Later, I heard her admit to others that she liked me.
I thought I should be agitated, but I wasn't, instead, I curled my lips into a smirk.
I thought there was a deep enmity between us.
Arrogant and conceited, I underestimated my feelings for her.
Therefore, even when I noticed something was off, I still deceived myself, suppressing it and pretending not to see.
Until I saw the text message Mom sent her.
Turns out she had been accompanying my mom all along.
Turns out my mom likes her.
...
Turns out I had never seen myself clearly.
Turns out those feelings I couldn't understand, which I arrogantly thought were hatred,
were actually jealousy, possessiveness.
It means I had fallen for her long ago.
I really...
am such an asshole.
One day later, I drank alcohol.
Under the influence of alcohol, the belated affection grew like vines, entangling me tightly.
I found her.
But I remembered the things I had done to her before.
I asked her if I had been bad to her.
She nodded without hesitation.
I recounted each thing I had done.
With each recount, it felt like my heart was being painfully ripped open.
That was the first time I heard hate from her mouth.
My heart ached.
For the first time, I realized how painful it is to hear hate from someone else's mouth.
And I had repeated it to her over and over again.
She was hospitalized.
I couldn't find her, and only learned where she was after asking her mother.
Her complexion was poor.
Even though I already knew about her condition from her mother, I still held out a sliver of hope for confirmation.
But that hope did not materialize.
She mentioned the things I had said and done before with a smile.
Those words I had spoken, but hearing them again felt like being tortured repeatedly.
Turns out I had been that awful.
Turns out I had been that awful...
The pain in my heart was bitter, and the bitterness rose to my throat.
Who can help me?
Who can tell me what to do?
I started deceiving myself again.
I told myself she would definitely get better.
Deceiving myself to the point where I felt disgusted with myself.
Only wanting to love after losing her.
How disgusting.
I visited her every day.
I always thought about what she likes, wanting to bring everything to her.
But when I saw those things, I was stunned.
I realized that after all this time, I didn't even know what she likes.
I saw that there was someone who is taking good care of her and loving her properly.
Suddenly, I felt incredibly jealous.
He loved her purely and sincerely since high school.
But me.
I didn't.
During countless sleepless nights, staring at the dark ceiling, my heart would inevitably throb with pain.
I asked myself if I'm trying to atone.
No... Not exactly.
I just wanted to love her properly once.
Who got bullied for so long.
Without seeking revenge, She was about to leave.
