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As the days went by, I started feeling better. Not everything was perfect, of course. My parents were fighting more and more. My dad tried blaming my mom for Heetuk leaving again since she was the one who got into an argument with him. On those days, I either went to the park by myself or shoved in my earbuds.

My friends always had an arm around me, metaphorically, of course. Besides Felix. He loves hugs. But they were there for me when I was having a bad day. Sometimes, they didn't even have to ask if I was okay. They would subtly grasp my hand, continuing the conversation they were having with the others. They would joke around with me, doing their best to try and make me smile. I really love my friends.

Chan and Binnie came by a few times. We sometimes worked on some music, but constantly got distracted by talking. They really helped me forget about my worries. I honestly don't know what I would do without them. I make a note to myself to take them out for lunch. That's the least I could do to say thank you. In the past, I took them for granted. I thought they didn't really care, even if they always showed up to help me with my family
troubles. I felt, for some reason, I didn't have good friends. I hate the part of myself that thought that. Those two are my best friends, my brothers. I'm glad I could realize that.

Minho and I were good. I don't know how else to put it. We hang out all the time. Every time we kiss, it feels like the first time, yet it always gets better. He's very perverted when we're heading to bed, but I don't mind that too much. He likes my butt.

And finally, I was having my first therapy session next week. Thinking about it made my stomach queasy. What if nothing changed? What if my parents tried taking me out again? I really wanted this to help. I wanted to know why these small triggers were happening.

The first time I went, it was okay. I, like I am now, was terrified. I didn't know how it worked. I didn't know what the therapist would ask me. I didn't know if they would call me out for a disorder or if I needed to ask a different doctor.

I never got comfortable with my first therapist. Then again, I only had three sessions, and I was convinced that I didn't need it. I had asked my parents the first time, too. They didn't actually put me in until my brother came back. Then they put us both in.

That made everything worse. They ignored me until the actual psycho came back. They must've though, "oh, our crazy child is back. Let's put him in therapy instead of the other one who asked us specifically for help. I guess we can put him in too, but he doesn't need it."

That's what I thought. I was inferior to my brother because he did physical things that made him seem like he needed help. He does, but why wouldn't you listen to someone who is actually asking for it? He didn't want to go. I did. How does a parent ignore something like that?

Those few months made me feel awful. I had kept bringing it up and they didn't listen. I'm just glad I was finally able to get out what I had to say. To call them out and tell them how I felt. It made me feel powerful. Less afraid.

Now I'm back to being afraid. That moment is over. There are new things to worry about.

______

Literally, there are new things to worry about. For example, me graduating on Sunday! I'm updating early cause I have a very busy weekend :D I can't believe I'm graduating. I started this book when I was a sophomore... can't believe it's been three years. Anyway, wish me luck! Enjoy this update :)•

Why So Lonely? || Minsung 1/3 ✔️ Where stories live. Discover now