It’s very difficult to look back at where you started because where you are after the collide probably will never make it back to you as whole.

If this me I am now could warn myself months prior –I’d vouchsafe writing the days I fell in love instead of debating what my mind deemed it to be at the time; there I would see on plain paper that I am drastically falling head over heels for a man with a dynamic and ubiquitous sanction over my vital organ. Then I’d write any impact that may have not predominately satisfied me in that refraction of unsettlement/endearment. Yes, completely condense every single wording bound by the sensations caused by anything or anyone inside of them. That way I could never question them like I’d done.

I mean the videos helped, trusting helped.

I have one tenacious spirit at that; I see that before the accident, upsetting everyone was a great fear but winning these obstacles mattered most to me no matter what junction.

 If I’d not forgiven now… saw my faults then –would I care where my trails led?

My memory loss ; though it pained me, indirectly a spark ignited and made a man out of its cosmic neuro play.

Exactly how lost can that make me now?

“You could have told me…” I gently hand the bouquet after an apologetic bow. I’d not seen or spoken to anyone involving the hospital since Chanyeol left. The most concern I had was about his strength. If he didn’t have that –I’d not know how to cope with breaking a man.

 Everything just fell off short though I played it off with an understanding calm.

“And then?” Nurse Oh graciously receives them, she’s casing them in her arms –brightly exchanging the array of essence through the petals and brings to herself fervent happiness.

My response is delayed. She could guess because I may remain emotional about what happened? Perhaps I miss him and bringing up days where I was not given explanations pain me? Well, it’s not really any of those in particular. It’s this woman –this figure that stood over me with her warmth and I never came back to properly thank her. I don’t want her to have to say anything about that day.

It’s the matter of pure etiquette that had my lungs strained at this time. Those flowers in her hands I’d hope ameliorated that lack of honor. I really have been raised better.

“Nurse Oh, this is really not about him this time…and though I know I want some form of update because I have no idea when he’ll be back, it’s fine this way.” I clearly gaze into her eyes and break down little by little. The words come out but every sentence isn’t fully – well, the delivery meshes with choked up sobs and confident humiliation trusts that this is all I can offer –“I just wanted to come to you and say thank you for being my pairs of legs when I couldn’t walk, my brain when I could not remember and hardly find courage to try, and also my heart when it repudiated signs of acceptance.”

My enormous fear of never being the same placed me in mourning and even if she may not look at this as I do, “I know flowers will never be enough and that this is just your job but please find the time in your day to stop by my home anytime… the address is in between the stems…” Nurse Oh’s already looking for herself and dearly commends me for the effort.

My head falls into her shoulder when she hugs me, coos me into a sweet assurance as always –“Oh, sweetie this isn’t just what I do, it’s my mission here and I wouldn’t have it any other way –though wishing you’d been spared this endeavor I prayed you would get back on your feet. Sometimes the science of treatment isn’t the missing piece –it’s your spirit.” As she’s kissing the side of my head, I breathe in and hug her once more.

There’s a profound silence between her caressing my head and kindly thanking me for the flowers that I give off. “It’ll be my pleasure to stay for dinner sometime.” She tells me softly.

I’ve dried my tears and nodded. “You can say hello to your son for me… I know he doesn’t really favor me?” I unevenly raise a brow on behalf of the past.

Nurse Oh laughed so loudly I thought the flowers were going to fly over her head as her neck threw back towards the ceiling. If she knows her son she’ll share the positive so that I can get a glimpse of a shaky but meaningful relationship the two kids she knows have.

“My son all but worries little about why you did what you did. He always insists you just fix it. So a hello for him is the best peace offering. I’ll send the message.” She winks.

In a succinct moment of finding my parents car parked at the hospital lot, I hasten my steps. I felt pleased, even happy but I couldn’t smile ironically.

I’m working my way in the passenger’s when my step father turns back from giving Naeil a hand sized purple monkey I got a few days ago. She won’t let it go because she has amazing taste.

“So everything went well?” He’s starting the car up with a hopeful smile.

I look out the window for a moment and then share, “I think she loved the flowers more than my thank you.” I joke but inside I wouldn’t believe that entirely.

He gives me a pat on the shoulder briefly while eyes stayed on the road to voice, “When are flowers ever the answer? You give flowers as an extension of yourself, therefore what you say the flowers are meant for don’t signify the flowers’ importance. It’s you and how you confronted your feelings with the person you’re giving the flowers to; those words are what they remember most.”

I couldn’t agree more.

After getting to the main road, the radio softly playing and the toddler shaking the monkey to an aimless beat sort of put me to sleep.

I was a bit more tired than I led on.

The day before leading into yesterday I fell asleep at the office. Between the recordings with Irene and editing teams, my material felt like a tea leaf. The process long –dried out but from it, the aroma although very sweet and nice, carries a bitter taste that may need to come with a spoonful of sugar. I’m compelled to give it my all but I still don’t think it’s ready despite the broadcast being in a few days.

Then there’s the show, we’re thinking about the theme still and this undercover/detective/merchant being the gist.

Irene thinks we need more recruits, I agree especially since I’ll be working at a radio station soon when the summer is finished. Of course I figure another creative and likely producer would be the extra astute support we need.

 By then, there will be no more work at the convenience store, and even my sessions eventually come to an end though I have emission in the hospital for testing in a week. I don’t get to leave for twenty four hours and my records will explain the growth plain and simple.

There’s still a chance something could go wrong and I regress but there’s only little certainty to that –my mother insists every time my records and bills are mailed.

Right those hospital bills. I did that. I clench my teeth prior to them unlocking –that’s when something entirely off topic begins sinking in.

The last piece of what I couldn’t grasp or perhaps something I can’t control. It was when I continued to dream and not wake that I realized this wasn’t a dream but a memory surfacing and it pained me no more than walking on cotton, because it wasn’t confessing anything I didn’t already know.

I’m just meeting him at the bus stop. He’s posted by the structure which has a poster of some model midway in a water collide. Right, a cosmetic line that’s probably overpriced.

My shoes hit the pavement with a light bounce and I widely wave and shuffle them toward him thumbing up indecently. He’s just a grinning away and now reaching a hand for my chin. I had to breathe out –face unsure. Chanyeol then says, “You’re not wearing a jacket, it gets cold at night.”

“Are we staying out all night?” I challenge with alacrity stretching my lips wide despite him knocking this chin and leading the way. He just looked sapient that I wouldn’t allow him to be the serious one in the relationship.

 I fist his arm, “Relax, I checked the weather today. No heavy winds, and the temperature doesn’t drop.”

Chanyeol whistles, “Good. I want ice cream.” He then smiles and I roll my eyes. He gets me again on a day that I’m not working but I always have my concerns –like if he doesn’t get the damn skateboard a dumpster I’ll run it out on the streets. That’s of course before I test it out. Seems dumb I know but when at times Chanyeol’s riding it, like now.

I watch and carefully see the sways of the wheels knocking inch by inch but then gliding nicely across by every push. It’s cool to look at until this happens- “Ah…”

I’m oddly at loss for a chuckle this time. When Chanyeol huffs and avoids a deadly skip and slide, he jogs quickly to pick up the board and leaves it on one hand to then pat down his hair that spiraled along with him.

His eyes kept looking back and forth at me because I had my arms folded and I stood watching like he just cut me off doing that. Only he was a good distance away and I never tried to catch up as I trailed behind.

“Let me ride it.” I now speak up and Chanyeol got brighter when I approached.

He hums, “I’ll let you test it a bit then later we can really try –it’s not as easy as you think.” I check his board when it’s placed back to the ground and my arms are at my sides wondering what they do if I push off the thing.

“Hold my hand and I’ll drag you across up to there.” He points to the corner we have to turn at to get to where he planned for tonight.

I nod, “Sure and I know it’s not easy, it’s stupid in my opinion but I want to try it.” I chuckle knowing it made no sense. I blink the moment I step on it. I just tense –“This is basically a hazard, Chanyeol –why do you ride this?” I angrily say out and stare up at him as I try to stand properly. He’s got me held tight but I wobble to the right just before my left foot positions on the front of the board properly.

I huff, he huffs then he leans in and forces me to stand up straighter