Invincible

You think you’re invincible.

When your stupid little fans call you by your full name. Kwon Yuri.

They idolize you and you love it. You tell me you don’t, but I know you better than that. You say that you couldn’t care any less whether they idolized you or not, but that’s a lie. Your reputation means a lot to you. I see the cocky grin on your face when one of our classmates calls you by your whole name, like you’re some sort of goddess. You revel in the attention they give you.

Sometimes I think you let it all get to your head and you really do think you’re some sort of goddess. Maybe that’s why you think you’re invincible.

You think you’re invincible.

When I agree to go out with you.

You’re cocky, sometimes too cocky, but I find it endearing. I tell you that I’m high maintenance, but you say that it’s okay because you like maintaining me. It’s a ridiculous line that I am sure you stole from a popular American T.V. show, but I go out with you anyway. There is that stupid grin on your face again when I say yes. I hate to admit that it’s actually kind of cute.

You are the popular athlete; I am the quiet girl in the back of the classroom that only likes to sleep. I don’t know how you even noticed me, but I am glad you did because sometimes when I’m with you I feel like I’m invincible too.

You think you’re invincible.

When you kiss me in front of the whole school during our high school graduation.

I think it’s stupid. Our relationship is a secret until you decide to be spontaneous and made the decision for the both of us to come out so publicly. But I guess it is for the best, because the difference is not noticeable. You are the one who gets more ridiculed for it than I do. You say you knew it would happen; that is the price of being popular. You sugarcoat it for me. I wish you would stop doing that. I know that it is because you are with me that it is worse than it could be. My reputation is not the greatest, and people even go as far as to tell you that someone like you should not be with someone like me. I don’t know where it came from, but there are multiple rumors that I am cold-hearted. Sometimes I believe them.

But then you tell me I’m not, and then I won’t.

You think you’re invincible.

Whenever you win an award at one of your swimming competitions.

There is a grin on your face, not your usual cocky grin that I occasionally find endearing, though. It is a proud grin, one I adore even more. It is obvious to anyone that can see you how important swimming is to you. There is a spark in your eyes when you tell me that you feel like you’re on top of the world, that nothing can touch you. You love it, and you love being recognized for it. And I love it too.

Because it is in one of those moments that I realize I love you.

You think you’re invincible.

When you take that fourth red cup.

It is the first time you try alcohol and neither of us are very sure of what’s even in the cup, but I know that you are already very drunk. I wrestle the keys away from your hands when you try to get in the car. You yell at me and you try to tell me that you’re fine. I am lucky that you are so inebriated because I don’t think I have the strength to overpower you if you are fully functional. I shove you in the back seat and you pass out before I even get to your apartment.

I stay with you that night, and we do not talk for a whole week after that.

You think you’re invincible.

When we have our first big argument.

It is about how reckless you can be. You tell me nothing will happen to you. I say that something will. We eventually make up, but nothing is really solved. You are still reckless and I still hate it. But I love you. We miss each other too much to continue arguing. When you hug me you look down at me and I can tell you are struggling to keep your tears in. You tell me that you were so scared that you had lost me.

I want to tell you that now you know how I feel all the time, but I bite my tongue because I miss you.

You think you’re invincible.

When I finally tell you I love you.

I tell you this almost a year after I have actually realized it. The look on your face, the way your eyes soften, is an image that I decide to etch into my memory permanently. Then you say it back quietly and I kiss you.

And I believe that we are invincible.

You think you’re invincible.

When you start going thirty miles above the speed limit.

I scream at you to slow down, but you do not hear me and instead you start going faster. You are filled with adrenaline, laughing as you speed past everything in sight. All I can see is the dark night and the blurred outlines of other cars. Loud honks and your laughter fill my ears, and I shut my eyes tightly when you almost hit another car. I let out a loud scream when you make a sharp turn and we start drifting. You finally slow down and pull over when you see me shaking and crying in the passenger seat. You apologize over and over again and you tell me that you won’t ever do that again while I’m in the car. I tell you that you shouldn’t do it whether I’m in the car or not.

I can tell you do not agree, but you do not say anything because I am still crying and you comfort me instead.

You think you’re invincible.

When we celebrate our sixth anniversary.

We do not do anything big because neither of us have the time, energy, or money to go all out. It is a simple dinner at your place, but I am content with it and you are too. Grand gestures aren’t really our thing anyway. After we have dinner, there is that proud grin on your face again, the one you have on after a successful swim meet or a competition, the one I adore so much. You tell me that sometimes you just can’t believe I am yours and you hug me tight.

I want to say the same words back, but I do not. I know I will wish that I did, though.

You think you’re invincible.

When you go to that party and take every drink anyone offers you.

I shake my head, but I don’t say anything because I don’t want to create a scene. I am used to it now, but I still don’t like it. I make a mental note to try to talk to you about it again later the next morning when you are sober. I know it will be a repeat of previous arguments, but I decide to do it anyway. I let you do what you want and lose you in the crowd for a few minutes. It is what we always do, so I am not as worried as I was the first time. After an hour, I hear the screeching of tires outside, and I am still not worried because I am under the assumption that you are still inside. There is a loud commotion.

I swear my heart stops when I see the reason why.

You thought you were invincible.

And now we know.

You’re not.