It was for sure frustrating. But above that, it was a breath of fresh air. It wasn't clean and youthful, but it showed a reality of being young and immature. It's weirdly comforting, albeit making you want to pull your hair off. Because in the middle of loving, of knowing you are loved, you realize you don't know how to love someone the way they want to be loved--and that's where the resentment roots, where the suffering blossoms. It's undeniably stupid, not communicating; but it's not impossibly undeniable that some people are not aware enough of what makes them feel secured in a relationship, hence, they become incapable of communicating their needs and wants. Yes, it's stupid, but as toxic as it is, for some, this kind of cycle brings comfort: the anxiety and greed becomes easy, predictable. And Maki, a friend and a straightforward character, challenges all the foundation of Touma and Sou's relationship. He showed what intimacy can be without the constraints of the fear of being abandoned, without being consumed with the greed of tying someone to oneself. He became the mirror that reflected back the darker side of Sou's loving, while also being a window to show the reality of Touma suffering despite the many times he'd confessed his affection. Maki, towards Touma, reflected back the realness of the latter's suffering, pushing him to finally see it, acknowledge it, and finally grow from it. And it's lovely and painful, and well-written for all the heartache it had shown. The reset, at the end, was the much needed point to grow, in hopes to mature, to be worthy of loving and being loved, and to know how they wanted to be loved.
This story may not be for everyone, but it needed to be written, to exist.
It was for sure frustrating. But above that, it was a breath of fresh air. It wasn't clean and youthful, but it showed a reality of being young and immature. It's weirdly comforting, albeit making you want to pull your hair off. Because in the middle of loving, of knowing you are loved, you realize you don't know how to love someone the way they want to be loved--and that's where the resentment roots, where the suffering blossoms. It's undeniably stupid, not communicating; but it's not impossibly undeniable that some people are not aware enough of what makes them feel secured in a relationship, hence, they become incapable of communicating their needs and wants. Yes, it's stupid, but as toxic as it is, for some, this kind of cycle brings comfort: the anxiety and greed becomes easy, predictable. And Maki, a friend and a straightforward character, challenges all the foundation of Touma and Sou's relationship. He showed what intimacy can be without the constraints of the fear of being abandoned, without being consumed with the greed of tying someone to oneself. He became the mirror that reflected back the darker side of Sou's loving, while also being a window to show the reality of Touma suffering despite the many times he'd confessed his affection. Maki, towards Touma, reflected back the realness of the latter's suffering, pushing him to finally see it, acknowledge it, and finally grow from it. And it's lovely and painful, and well-written for all the heartache it had shown. The reset, at the end, was the much needed point to grow, in hopes to mature, to be worthy of loving and being loved, and to know how they wanted to be loved.
This story may not be for everyone, but it needed to be written, to exist.