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Your heart was intangible, and your pants could never stay up.
Cheating is cowardly, Lying is worse. Your lies were easy to spot; Your affair was just as easily caught. I never understood why you did it; I guess from the loss of 'I love you's over the years, it was simply because you never truly loved me, or maybe you did when we hadn't known the definition of love.
You know you never told me you loved me. I never got a clear 'i love you, or maybe I did in your little way. Why the person who stood by your side, when you burnt me in more ways than one could imagine, why didn't I get I love you.
"But you know I love you I shouldn't have to say it, you know .....?"
Despite the bad memories, we had some good ones. I remember this one memory vividly: when we were younger, I remember us snacking on plums; as we silently guided our feet towards the local park that held memories of our destructive past we never dare to speak of; our sticky snack made a soft lavender hue on your lips, crimson eyes shined in the moonlight as we continued our journey in never—no. It wasn't ending, but it was; we believed that life was something we could hack. Knowing one day, we'd grow tired and lonely. We tried to stop time and be together forever. However, time wasn't something individuals could control; even with quirks that reminded time, we still had our happy ending, people still had their flaws at the end of the day. With their dark purple colour, bitter bites and stupid lies, the plums made their way into our hearts as we continued a journey in our naive imaginary reality.
Somehow, we got to the place that held more dreadful memories than pleasant ones. Had more tears than it made smiles, more artificial promises than it did real ones.
Somehow, you made me believe that we were going to be together forever.
Somehow, I continued to probe into your inexperienced, insecure, confused hands, letting you mend our broken souls into one and ramming one lie after another. Sometimes I wonder how we ever thought that silly little preschool promise would be enough to drag on the forced make-outs and timid glances at the Hero Ball that met ardour eyes that were attracted to another.
Of course, there was probably love once in a blue moon. You'd always be my first love.
But your definition of love was scattered and faux, a mask put on every time I said I loved you. Your eyes are always transfixed on art that you've seemed to blur the lines between art and the living. You didn't know what love was; it seemed, maybe you still don't, perhaps you found it in a particular red-haired angel—someone besides me. Honestly, I'm surprised we made it past a year with our bickering. I should've known then and there, Katsuki, you lost your love for me and lost in texts to your lover, eyes that danced when you saw him. God, three years of chasing, begging, broken plaster. Three years of late-night cuddles and rants about how there was no other. I ignored three years of harsh red flags in favour of your homemade katsudon, crafted by the manufacturer in Tokyo. Three years of endless fights over the smallest of things.
"Why're you so mad? We weren't even that close Kacchan?"
"Not that close? You were practically on the man's lap you fucking sleaze"
Love does make you blind after all.
Young Idiotic Love, the title we held so proudly over us almost like a sign saying "HI YES WE'RE IN A BAD PLACE, BUT WE WON'T TALK ", stupid wasn't. It? Foolish, dense and naive thoughts of being forever in the world in a world where I wasn't even truly yours, in a world where the title 'us' was held for someone else, that cliche old saying "it's us against the world", the way we ー no, the way I thought 'us' was something timeless.
I don't think I'll ever figure out what happened to us. We had that fairytale Cinderella fantasised about.
I remember the way you used to pull me onto your lap and peck every freckle your lips could find, saying how they remind you of constellations. I guess my stars told the wrong story. But I ignored them at first, nagging me about how your cryptic exterior was more complicated than the human brain, the sharp, intimidating walls that you pushed forward lingered somewhere deeper inside of you. Somewhere I didn't dare look. You told me my love was foolish, but I promised you that it was eternal with bright eyes and quiet stars. But I was one of many fools tripping over their hearts to win yours.
The human brain. The cerebral cortex helps us all reason. Memory, attention, no matter the season. Dark memories blurred into happy ones, and my reasoning for everything was well kitchen would've gone about it this way! A fool I was to be distracted by your pomegranate and hibiscus infused shampoo, by your wide pearly white smile, by your crimson eyes that shined when your work was praised. A fool I was to assume you knew what love was, my heart shattering every time I asked you why you thought love wasn't real, and all you'd say was "just because". How could I blame you for not knowing what love was? Love was complex, something you only found when you were with the right person, when you would take a grenade for them when you'd drop everything just for them. When you never lied to them about their insecurities and then used it in an argument to win it.
Perhaps because I am still a fool, for I regret none of it. I don't regret our whispered conversations that spanned late night to early morning, nor our secret rendezvouses, especially not that laugh of yours. That laugh. The sound of long, hot mornings and spilt honey. Now I hear the mischief, the knowledge that you'd wrapped me a little bit further around your finger. The lack of regret scares me because I know it's because I did have a choice.
Did I had a choice when you made me decide between the one I loved and those I protected? When you traced and pressed my skin with your tongue until it had moulded into something of yours? But what we had was never a choice. What I gave you was never permanent, and eventually, I let go of the rusty chains that had once held our stowaway shadows and darkest secrets.
I can't tell you this will be the last letter, Maybe this isn't me trying to say goodbye, but I don't want it to be anything else. I remind myself of that every time I see your face, somewhere in a crowd, or staring back at me in the mirror. Every time like your butterfly knife, fluttering further into my chest.
Bakugou Katsuki, I hate you.
I'm not too fond of the way you make me feel after all you've done, how you promised never to hurt me again. Still, you did so in a cowardly manner, on my birthday in a place we called home my sanctuary, you tore down my walls and patched them up with band-aids you defiled the bed I had tear-stained and had my first in. You managed to make me feel so little I forgot who I was. made me forget I was good enough made me feel so small in this already miniature world, I hate that you make me feel like I am no longer number one hero but the same Deku from middle school, like my struggles and triumphs, are worthless. Hate that the memories you've given me are so ingrained into my brain that I still feel your presence instead of the cold absence you left in your wake. I hope you found what it means to love someone. I hope you found what it means to be good to someone, what it means to cherish love, what it means to wake up in the morning in love.
But most of all I hope you found yourself, hope you're done crying in the bathroom when you've lost another civilian, I hope you figured out how to love your scars and your flaws because without self-love you can never truly love another something you have shown time and time again. I hope you're happy and I'm sorry I was not enough to keep your heart nor your pants up. I was not enough for you just like you weren't enough for you.
Unspoken words, They fill the void with them. I'm sure you figured out what the spoken words are as they are your words that you failed to communicate. Unspoken words, anxious and bitter. unspoken words, Silent yet wishful thoughts.Unspoken words I'm sorry you got caught
This is my final goodbye to you, I'm not sure where the road will lead without you by my side it'll be a lonely Journey.
Sincerely,
Izuku.