In love with the suicide
Jimin had been loving me in silence for too long. It was not an impulsive or superficial love; I was one of those who grow with the small details: the way I always sat at the back of the room, how I lowered my gaze when someone approached, the care with which I protected my world from the rest. He never dared to speak to me because his love did not want to frighten me, because he understood—without knowing the truth—that I was carrying something heavy on my chest. For him I was not distant, I was fragile; She wasn't cold, she was someone who needed room to breathe. That's how he loved me: from afar, with patience, with a heart full of words he never spoke. And just when he decided to break his silence, when he mustered all his courage to get closer, he didn't imagine that I would find myself on the rooftop, on the verge of an end that he was not willing to allow.
About In love with the suicide
Jimin had been loving me in silence for too long. It was not an impulsive or superficial love; I was one of those who grow with the small details: the way I always sat at the back of the room, how I lowered my gaze when someone approached, the care with which I protected my world from the rest. He never dared to speak to me because his love did ...Read more