A month passed and Yoongi seemed to be struggling more than you were, which even he was surprised about. The separation had his anxiety going haywire, he felt rather woeful and miserably inadequate. Why were all of these things coming out of him again? Nothing had been this bad since he was a teenager and he was frustrated.

You seemed to be meeting new people, but they all happened to be guys for some reason. Apparently all the girls were repellent and impossible to talk to. And you had told him about this drunk guy from work that had been an ass to you and then tried to make amends when sober the next Monday.

It was a given you could take care of yourself, he knew that. He had been proud to hear how you had thrown the guy's glass in the firepit causing the flames to roar. That's my girl, he had thought smugly. You were rather feisty, but also daring and with that came this magnetic attraction you seemed to be oblivious to.

Yoongi didn't necessarily think you'd be unfaithful, but anyone could easily outdo him in attractiveness, personality too probably, and they most certainly could offer you a lot more than he could. Including active company and affection, which he was rather passive at.

Just look at Taehyung, he thought. He is handsome, warm, is still as eager to communicate with his girlfriend and makes sure he is with her whenever needed. Yoongi sent several photos a day, messages, kept his promise about the selcas on demand, wore your gift 24/7 to show you his appreciation and called you every other day.

He was honestly so tired the calls were rather short when he did get to talk and you always sounded disappointed when he said he had to go. His efforts felt insufficient, even if he was pushing it to the max. Yoongi just wasn't cut out for that. He was not romantic, didn't offer satisfactory physical affection and found it hard to communicate and express his feelings.

It was far from anyone's ideal man and he was aware of it. He felt really discouraged and inferior in comparison to other potential men you could see. He sighed frustrated as he laid in his hotel room's bed. Working in between concerts was being difficult for him, he had no willpower for it and the performances gave him the musical fix he needed to cope.

Someone knocked on the door and Yoongi got up to creak it open. When he saw it was Namjoon, he took a step back and opened it all the way for him to walk in. "Namjoon-ah, what's up?" he asked as he sat on the desk's chair and the leader on the edge of the bed.

"Something's not right, are you okay, man?" he asked looking concerned for his well-being.

"Yeah. I'm just not sleeping well or working as much as I'd like to and-" Yoongi answered and was cut mid sentence.

"That doesn't sound okay, Yoongi-yah" he shook his head disapprovingly. The older one sighed and looked down at his hands, tightly wrapped together on his lap. "Have you been taking anything to sleep?" he suggested and Yoongi shook his head no.

"I'm so sick of pills, Joon-ah" he started frustrated "I had to resume my anxiety meds" he muttered ashamed. The leader's eyes widened thinking of when Yoongi was so anxious he couldn't go out on stage years back.

"Wait, really? Because of the tour?" he questioned alarmed.

"No. It started before, but I couldn't handle it anymore" his hyung replied in a whisper, it was difficult to admit. When he couldn't afford medication he just dealt with it as best as he could, but now that he knew how pills aided him, he was in no state to put up with it. It made him feel weak and worthless.

"How do you feel about performing?" Namjoon asked seriously, he needed to know whether he was in a good condition. He wouldn't allow any of the members to exert themselves mentally or physically, they were the most important.

"It's the only thing keeping me sane" he said and the leader sighed relieved as he nodded taking the information in. He felt bad he was having such a difficult time though. It was clear in his head how he had struggled in their early years, they'd become close over it.

"Try to relax and get some sleep, maybe listen to some soothing music or read?" Namjoon said as he walked towards the door to leave for his room.

"Thanks, good night" Yoongi said with a small sincere smile. That was not a bad idea, he thought as he turned on his laptop and looked for the songs he had made for you. He didn't mention it, but he'd come up with a bunch more these last few months.

They went from being four tracks to twelve and he was saving them for a special occasion so he could work on them without additional pressure. He set up his wireless speaker and pressed play before laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

He was not romantic, but the idea of love and all it entailed was rather enticing to him. They worked writing songs for a boy band after all, he had grown quite fond of them. Funnily enough, he expressed himself better through music than words or skinship.

How could he feel so much, but be able to externalize so little in a direct form. It would certainly make social interaction much easier. Yoongi felt he couldn't feel any more frustrated than he already did, but he would if there was a way.

Your deep poems entangled with his soft melodies filled up the room as he closed his eyes and meditated. Love, lust, rejection, longing, toxic relationships, platonic lovers and his favorite, craving for normalcy and company in someone's arms. These themes made him wonder if you'd experienced all these assorted emotions.

He hadn't been through everything their songs transmitted, but he had been able to make those feelings his to transform them into suitable music. That was something he was good at, at least. The one thing he'd found he could actually be proud of since he was a sixth grader and discovered hip hop. The one skill he didn't second guess himself about.

He was one with his music and he believed in it with his whole heart. Yoongi picked up his phone which he had thrown on the bed and recorded an audio. "What are you doing to me?" he said softly and with a sad tone, the track still playing in the background.

He got a reply from you shortly after, he was surprised, but then again it was probably around lunch time for you. They only had a couple more places in USA and then they'd go up to Canada. The time difference had barely changed since they were in the west coast, it was still a good half day ahead.

"Are you okay, Yoongi? You sound upset" he read and he felt a pang in his chest. Why did you have to feel for him, he could take it, you didn't have to worry along with him. He felt guilty for sharing that audio of him being generally miserable with you. He had felt close to you and wanted to let you know he was thinking of you, but he didn't think it through.

"It's ok, I'll deal with it" he replied his usual ironclad answer and you frowned at the screen with a pout.

"You know that's my cue to say you don't have to shut me out, right?" you insisted. You were right, he thought. Ever since he let his guards down and cried in front of you feeling immensely comforted and accompanied like never before, you had insisted he didn't have to do this.

It's not that his family didn't matter, though they didn't always support him, or that his friends weren't there for him. But it's not the same kind of relationship with a partner and he didn't know he was starved for it up until those words came out of your mouth, you don't have to be alone.

His heart clenched at the thought, the conflict in him invaded his head and prodded his heart. Life wasn't compatible with that as is and he wasn't willing to give it up, he needed to find a way, but balance was not possible.

He could thrive from that closeness, that affection, that connection, but he knew he was selfish because whoever he dragged into this, you, would be at an unfair disadvantage. He wanted it at the expense of your well-being, he was clearly unfit for a healthy relationship. But he was greedy and unwilling to give up that tantalizing and addictive feel love teased him with.

I'm such a horrible and despicable piece of trash, he thought. His eyes welling up with angry frustrated tears. His bottled up feelings exploded in his chest and he felt distraught and perturbed. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes trying not to let the threatening tears fall.

His phone buzzed next to him and he grabbed it hastily, he couldn't read your message with his watery vision so he just typed. "Leave me alone" he pushed you away to protect you from him. I'm not worth it, he threw another dagger at his own heart, engorged by his self-loathing.

Your heart broke at his answer to your attempt to comfort him with your last message: "trust me, Yoongi, it's us through it all now. I won't love you any less."

Separated by day and night, future and past, water and land, you both cried your eyes out unaware of the fact that you had made each other cry when you wanted to save each other from the pain. Achieving exactly the hurt you dreaded for one another.

-

I made myself cry again while writing. Don't mind me, I'll be in the corner for a bit.