Chanyeol #8                                                                                           

             19

There hadn’t been much of a farewell when I left Korea. Everything in its course all kind of felt surreal. Did I feel as though this was all pointless? No, never did I ever think to question what’s best for me again. It’s because I knew somewhere inside, I disconnected with my heart.

Things don’t make sense because it’s too good to be true, and then the little things I miss I end up shutting down due to them. I no longer want to feel that pain.

I remember when my heart used to easily guide me to all the right places. It was profitable to all the right decisions and didn’t dwell with intrusiveness too long when unsettled. Yes, it was allowed room for an ache now and then but the last time I really burned with a passion was just about the time Baekhyun fell off that skateboard. By that moment, everything was lost and though admirable to the fact my heart really did belong to him –how would it at all be kept enthralled in his eyes. Those eyes I in return couldn’t reach.

 No really –thinking of it kills me. So many ifs and so many coulds I just want to be done with such a traumatic moment.

There were different badump sensations however. Even though they’re all caused by Baekhyun ; I believe it’s spreading. I don’t take too kindly to people anymore. I’ve actually ignored them. Nothing from the outside interests me and it’s sad. I can find solace at home playing games, finding things to do and avoid.

At times I really see that by not looking for the next job, it gave it away. I basically quit working the same day Baekhyun got in the accident and I’ve been jobless ever since.

Money barely costed a thing since I was on a poor diet. I ate leftovers and occasionally went out to dinner with friends but the worst part was that I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy. Even when I felt he was safe and heard it with my own ears, I never got back in shape because I missed him. And because I was missing him –I lost myself.

Things that I hear from others I can’t really believe and I know it’s only going to get worse. What exactly will the treatment tell me? That I failed but, get back up? People are dying all over the world and the man you love is living and breathing ; he had some setbacks that you may have caused but he’s breathing, get back up.

Again it gives me a headache. I just can’t outthink the best of things. “It didn’t have to be this way.” I sighed out towards one of the many windows that my seat is placed by. We’re getting ready to land as we’ve just found Tokyo, Japan.

“Seems legit.” I have found a chuckle leave as I am immediately greeted by a man standing with a sign showing my name at the arriving gate. I wondered about the small slip of Korean when I waved my hand however, they bowed and greeted me in Japanese nonetheless.

“Yoroshiku.” I find a small smile and the older man ends up easily replying back by then.

“We’ll be waiting on another patient, Mr. Yeol. They came on the same flight as you did.”

As I hear this, I abstrusely furrow my brows –“Really?” Someone else who was Korean? I wonder why Dr. Inwoo didn’t tell me.

Though he understands the news is a surprise, he flips the sign again to show the name of another patient that flew here. I get a peek –nosey as can be I clear my throat to in the end look away after finding the name seems female and that exact female finds herself rolling her suitcase like a cat with keen senses.

She seems in a hurry to get out and our chauffer only leads to do so immediately. I followed behind of course but nothing made me more left out than the voidance of attention she lacked at giving me.

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