YukiKyo is really like, we could've been friends, we could've been *great* friends, I've admired you from a distance and envied the way you were able to easily attract a crowd around you, I always hated you because everyone hated me and it was easy to blame you for everything and justify to my self-hatred that I'm still alive through wanting to defeat you, We spent our childhoods in dark rooms with one other person and that person who was our world hurt us, We grew up being Othered even in a clan of Others for our special positions to God as both closest friend and enemy, We grew up knowing we were always going to be imprisoned and going through the motions of life, I looked down on you even through my envy, I couldn't think deeper besides my hatred for you because it hurt to think about why I did, We rarely meet because you are excluded from the same system that abuses me yet you so desperately want to be included, The same place that was my prison cell filled with long monotonous never-ending days is a place you are so unfamiliar with, My parent sold me to the devil while yours gave you to an angel, We're given a reprieve of 3 years by shacking up with a weirdo relative before we are made to remember our place again, Our lives are touched by a person with so much sadness and love in her heart, I see her as a mother and I hold myself from her because I put her on a pedestal, I see her as an equal who I love but who I have hurt and keep hurting and can't promise her a future, We can't talk without fighting physically or mentally, You have no social tact but I remember why I envy you, You glide through school with a grace I could never have, We spend three years talking through that lovely girl and through it we see each other change and through it we are familiar but still distant, We never really talk about it I say I envy you and you scold me for giving up and hurting the one person who gave us hope in our lives again, When we meet it's stilted one sentence conversations, We don't think about the what-ifs because we have others we care for more now and the world is no longer the span of a vengeful God's palms. But when our sons become friends I can't help but feel that part of our past open up again, If If If, it's too late for us to be more than people who exchange pleasantries every now and then and send messages during holidays and meet up every now and then, to completely rewrite the years of distant resentment with easy affection, All I can do is look at our sons and think what we could've been then blink and realize they will never have to consider that, They have never known each other as anything but friends and they live together not with a ticking timer to imprisonment over their heads but with a countdown of a fun and ordinarily stressful period of adolescence, Even when they leave our nests they still are close not needing excuses or another person to encourage that connection but instead just simple longing.
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