Ping Krittanun

He is my enemy. And not just any enemy. A stubborn one. The most stubborn person I've ever met in my entire life. He won't apologize. He won't back down. He will argue about the same stupid point for hours even when he knows he's wrong, just because he wants me to look at him. Just because he wants me to talk to him. Just because silence from me is the one thing he can't stand. He is the one who always cries when I don't pay attention to him. Not dramatic sobs. Not for show. It's quiet and pouty and completely unfair. His eyes get red, his lip wobbles, his voice goes small. "You didn't even watch." "You didn't reply." "You acted like I wasn't there." And suddenly I'm the worst person alive for trying to have five minutes of peace. How is he my enemy when he cries like I broke his heart? He is the one who always needs kisses. Many of them. Not just one. Never just one. He needs a lot. Soft ones to calm him down. Pouty ones when he's sulking. Quick ones to shut him up. Slow ones when he wants to win. He will lean in, forehead to mine, and whisper "kiss?" like it's oxygen. Like he will actually die if I don't. He is the one always clinging on me. In class, hand on my sleeve. On the couch, legs over mine. When I'm walking, arm around my shoulder like he owns me. I tell him to let go and he holds tighter. I say "stop," and he presses closer, buries his face in my neck like that's going to make me forget he's annoying. He is my enemy. At least, that's what I tell everyone. That's what I tell myself. But enemies don't look at you like you're the only person in the room. Enemies don't need your kisses to breathe. So what is he really?