I should’ve seen it. Seen what was happening and where it would lead. I’ve always been called oblivious, but this... The same thing has happened before, twice. I thought this time would be different; I really did. That was naïve of me. I should’ve seen the signs.

It started with a surprise. One that was immediately given away when I saw how wide that dorky grin of his was, all day long. I gave in and let him surprise me though. He put in so much effort to set up the dinner. I just had to play along. At least he didn’t get me any roses. It’s the first time in a while that someone has remembered my allergy. I guess that’s my first excuse for not noticing. But it should’ve been my first warning. Flowers, a romantic dinner in his apartment... We were such good friends previously that it all seemed like a bit of fun to me. How was I meant to know that it was supposed to be a date?

Obviously I didn’t and he didn’t push me into having that awkward conversation. Like I said, we were good friends. He knew just how oblivious I could be. But he didn’t mind. We had fun, truly. Afterwards I realised my mistake and invited him over to my place for the next weekend. He was sweet about it. We were able to joke about it. I always wanted someone that I could joke with. But I knew that it wasn’t in the cards for me. I knew. Yet I let this one keep going, pushing down all the warning signs because I thought for sure that it’d be different. I was so, so sure. And so, so wrong.

Our first real date was somehow more awkward. What can I say? I’m an awkward guy. He knew that. But he was there with that dorky grin of his that made me smile like some maniac whenever I saw it. I got clumsy in the kitchen. He offered his help. And not in a condescending ‘I’m better than you’ way. Instead he acted like my assistant, reading off instructions when I forgot them and minding the pan while I prepared the next step. Like I said, he was sweet. I was blindsided.

We laughed while eating dinner, oh how we laughed. I was a little giddy. Not from drinking mind you; I’d never risk that. I just got swept up in the atmosphere of it all and couldn’t stop myself. It had been a long, long time since I had enjoyed myself so much and just let go. I had forgotten the reason why. And both of us were going to pay the price. Not that night though. That night ended with a brief kiss and a promise to do the same thing the following weekend.

And those weekends, those weekends became my greatest delight. We’d miss some because of various obligations, but always make sure to at least text. Our friends were ecstatic when we told them that we were boyfriends. Money was exchanged and new bets were made. My sister was the only one with a bad reaction. She made a different kind of bet that left me in nightmare induced sweats for the rest of the week. I wanted so badly to avoid it that I refused to even consider it as a possibility, let alone a fact of my life. But I should’ve. I wish I had just listened to her when he still had a chance.

Maybe it was already too late. Because this guy, this magnificent and wonderfully flawed guy wouldn’t leave my mind for more than five minutes. It was frustrating. It was unnerving. It was love. And when I realised, I cried myself to sleep. They weren’t happy tears. My sister was sympathetic when I called her, with barely a hint of I-told-you-so in her tone. She told me to talk to our parents about it. The three of them did their best to understand, but there’s only so much that they could help with. None of us ever did find out anything about my biological parents.

I knew what I had to do. The only way to protect him was to leave him. A simple task. Yet somehow, somehow I still managed to screw it up. I went to his place, sure that I would leave and never come back. Something that I was right about. But the reason for it was so very wrong. He insisted that he make me a hot chocolate, never the kind of person to insist I change my hatred for coffee. I waited on his lounge, awkwardly sneaking glances at him in the kitchen. Watching him bustle away in that space used to be my favourite thing. But this time it was torture.

I couldn’t go near him, couldn’t lean over the kitchen bench and talk about our weeks together. He noticed how awkward I looked on the lounge and shot my one of his dorky grins. I’m sure he said something that pulled an impossible laugh from me. I should’ve been savouring every moment. But it hurt too much. I wish I’d taken the pain. He brought the mugs down and rested them on the coffee table, pulling me into the comfort of his arms so naturally that it burned my soul. And he told me that he loved me. It was so casual, so matter of face, so damn innocent. I didn’t run away. Instead, I just smiled like the idiot I am. Then he kissed me.

That’s when it went wrong. His dorky grin faltered and his eyes widened. I reached out to grab his hand, to still hold onto him somehow, but I already knew what was happening, what always happened. Death by True Love’s Kiss. It sounds silly and ridiculous and truly absurd. It’s all of those things. But I just wish it was a lie too. Every time, every single time that I fall for someone, properly fall for them, they die. They admit that they love me, they kiss me and then ... well ... this happens.

A shockwave went through me, followed by a full body shiver of dread. He fell backwards and I tried to take it back, to somehow fall out of love in that second, but it was already too late. It’s always too late. He was already gone. Before he hit the ground, already d-... Well, I’m going to have to admit it at some point. What better time then after I’ve cried over his body for an hour straight? He’s... No. Tyron. Tyron is dead. I was stupid and I let him get too close to me, far too close.

And now he’s lying there, his skull blasted open at the back yet his face untouched. He looks bizarrely serene. Almost like if I look at him from a certain angle then nothing would be wrong. If I close my eyes then I can pretend that he’s still sitting there with that dorky grin plastered on his face. But that’s not real. Tyron looks shocked and betrayed. I ... I killed him. I did this. It’s my fault. If I wasn’t such an idiot then I would’ve warned him. I swear it. If only I saw the signs.