About

I have colorectal cancer and only about six months left to live. I fell in love with you at first sight when we sat next to each other at last year's entrance ceremony. I became your friend and wanted to convey my feelings. You were kind, and so beautiful you could enchant anyone. Everything was perfect. I confessed to you, expecting a rejection. I expected it, but the refusal was more devastating than I could have imagined. "You filthy homo. God will lead you straight to hell. I don't even need words like 'dirty' or 'disgusting.' You're so loathsome I can't even apologize, and I won't." I was heartbroken and stopped eating. Tears flowed endlessly, and memories haunted me even when I tried not to think. While I was away from school, I was already labeled as gay. I eventually returned, but I couldn't go back to my normal daily life—though I was destined to die soon anyway. What he said was right. God is leading me to hell. It's been nearly a month since I stopped showing up to school, and I don't know if you know about my cancer yet. You still hate me. Even so, I still love you. As long as you're happy, that's enough for me. I just hope that in the next life, you might love me even a little bit. Holding hands, a warm hug, gently brushing my hair back, or a simple pat on the head—anything is fine, so please... Please, just love me.