I don't know what I wanted

evidence of your done-wrong will be gone

His hands hovered over the keyboard. It would be better if he just said how he felt right? But the insatiable craving for validation from anyone was overpowering. And he caved. Typing out a reply he knew this random person online would like.

He waited for the reply. And once the small buzz of validation emitted from his phone , he felt nothing. He sighed, rolling onto his side hissing slightly when he placed a bit too much pressure on his arm. Nothing felt the same.

Everyday was hollow and empty. He would wake up, eat if he wanted to, go back to bed and then just sit around on his phone or laptop for the whole day. He was liked online, if he dare to say he was very well liked. But it felt empty and meaningless. He wasn't even close to half of the people he interacted it. All that happened would be a small brief exchange under a post, saying something like 'omg I love this too.'

All he really wanted was love. The soft feeling that bubbles in his chest whenever he uttered the words "I love you." But it was gone now. Simply because of his inability to deal with change. He glanced towards a plushie next to him. It's beady eyes stared into his. He grabbed it and held it close. The smell of nicotine was old and fading. He still loved the smell, no matter how hard he tried to make himself hate it.

He stood up and walked towards his closet, opening it to see the mess of random clothes he ordered to get free shipping. He frowned and chucked the plushie in the pile before shutting the doors. He rested his back against the door and slowly slid down to the floor, pulling his knees in close.

Kuma always regretted what he did. Whether it was what he said or did, he would always regret it after they took a second too long to write a response, or had a glance that lingered with a judging look for too long. He really wished he never felt this way, that he could just move on with his life and not worry about what anyone had to say. But everything mattered to him. Every little detail was important.

And he knew he regretted what he said then. Maybe if he stayed. Maybe if he didn't walk away after the argument started. Maybe if he held in that disappointed "oh". Maybe if he wasn't so insecure, then everything would be fine. He guessed he was proud of himself for keeping in his tears until he made it home. But he knew it could have been prevented if he just listened.

His phone buzzed.

He looked up, and nearly bolted towards it, begging for it to be from who he wanted to see. But it wasn't. And the disappointment grew. He opened his contacts, going to the one he wanted to see. It would make sense for him to apologise, he was in the wrong. He wrote out a simple "I'm sorry" but paused before pressing send. He would just be annoying them, wouldn't he? They were probably working or asleep, and Kuma didn't want to bother them. But he grabbed whatever courage he had and pressed send.

Shortly after, it showed his message was read. He waited for a bit, desperate to see if he was accepted again or not. But it took too long. They really must not want to talk to him then. He sighed, powering his phone off before laying down again. He didn't know why he bothered, no one wanted to talk to him. And his empty soulless conversations were enough to prove it.