author's note: This was inspired by a poem written by a very dear friend, and was created over a week ago. I thought I lost this one under piles and piles of work last week.
Hwangbo's point of view, after a break up initiated by her.
:'( :( :'( >:( :'( :( :'( :( :'( :( :'( :(
The temperature dropped after the sunset. It's now distressingly cold. The glowing firefly-like lights outside have given life to the busy streets of Seoul at night, but not inside this room. Nothing in here has life, except for the body sprawled on the cold cemented floors. It's been 8 hours and 26 minutes since she panicked and started to grasp for air. Now, she's numb, blank, emotionless and perhaps almost lifeless. She could not believe the mere sight of memories of him and her, and those what could have beens still have that life threatening effect on her. The pain becomes fresh on her mind, but she has no one else to blame but herself.
It's days like these that she hates the most—when she's idle and away from work, when she is home alone—because she remembers how she bid him farewell and how her heart was shattered and turned into ashes in the process. Traces of him are still scattered around her apartment no matter how many times she cleans up every corner of every room. Still, there are tiny reminders of him everywhere.
Now, Hwangbo is drained—emotionally, physically. Her breathing is even and more relaxed now compared to the deep, quick ones hours ago. Fatigue slowly creeps in her system. Although she stopped crying already, there are still visible traces on her lovely grief-stricken face. She closes her eyes as sleep takes over her whole being. Slowly, she releases the pen on her right hand and the crumpled piece of white paper on the other. As she quivered and hyperventilated, she thought she might as well share her affliction, and if she dies, people will then have proof that one can die from a heartbreak. Her pain and thoughts were finally revealed in that piece of innocuous paper:
Hyunjoong,
3 months, 18 days, 22 hours and 15 minutes. I lay here counting every passing minute, every struggling hour, every painful day, every cursed month since I gathered the last pieces of my courage and every last bit of my pride to say goodbye and let you go. It was the most logical thing to do. It was the right decision to make based on common sense. But, why did it hurt so bad when I uttered those words? Why did it feel like my heart was being pulled out from my chest? Why does it make me feel now like I am lying in my own pool of blood and left to die?
I can only imagine that you were struggling, too. That scene when you tried to hold back those tears is still fresh on my mind. And it hurts me most, that we have to end this way. And, even now my heart still only beats for you.
I died on that very spot and at that very moment when I said goodbye. And, when you walked away, I knew I was going to regret the decision for the rest of my life.
But then, I get curious. Did that tear you held back ever fell and stream on your face? Did the same sadness and grief struck your heart, as it did mine? Did you feel anything at all?
I am cursed. And perhaps, will forever wonder and wander around asking questions, like I am doing now.
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End Note: The Curse by Elaine
I wish I didn't have to
Say goodbye and let go...
But I had to line up my pride
Like bricks, and generously
spread my common sense
Like plaster to put up the wall...
Inside the height of what I built
My heart bled a scarlet pool.
Unseen, I wade in it...
With you beyond this fortress,
I imagine that you wallow
maybe not in crimson liquid
but perhaps in purely limpid tears...
Hoping our farewell struck you
with the same sorrow,
the same misery
as I am in now.
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