Baekhyun #2                                                                                                                                             o3

The place in which I’ve dwelled; my house.

The small pieces don’t stand out if standing out means to remember which turns to make, where I would normally escape, and it’s not easy to stand here being led to and fro simply because this is a place I thought I’d never forget.

If we moved then that’s something totally different. I wouldn’t care to know the small fragments of why we had to or when. I can handle that. I would however need the details –why I left something behind when being stuck in the mind of one technically living in the past.

“We did a little renovation for Naeil’s room you moved out of. Your room is actually bigger now and it’s on the next level this time –if you recall the space I would make my packaging banchan? Now, I’ve finished that hobby since and you’ve been in there for these four months ironically.”

Her list of other changes, such as the real small things that related to the monthly change of toothbrush and toothpaste I went from to breakfast I would normally ask of, and as little as the discredited feeling of hardly telling her how my days had been.

I immediately hugged her the second she let her trembling hands go to either sides of my face to ensure she’s by my side every step of the way. She wanted to be a part of my life –the sides of which I kept to myself and though I still see myself wanting my space, I can hear her out most definitely.

“Mom, don’t fret. I’m not blind, I’m just recovering.” I briefly sighed.

It’s there that her unsteady breathing shakingly lets out another heavy sigh in chorus –“You just distanced yourself lately, Baekhyun. I can’t ask you why now, but in my area of expertise and from what you merely expressed; you didn’t want me to overexert myself over you especially with the new baby. You kept telling me you can take care of yourself and that you’d move out when you got the chance.” Her always silky hands focused now on the strands of my hair as I eyed her.

I wanted to hear more and she was quite aware of this fact when her eyes softened. This was why she smiled just a tad. “You know I wanted to tell you this just to give you the freedom to make you own decisions again while I remind you of what your goals were while in this house. I just need you to know that I’m going to always worry about my son. You can’t tell me to do otherwise. Do you understand, Baekhyun?” To emphasize that she’s made herself clear, the educated counselor for twelve years, kisses my forehead and hugs me closer than I’ve ever remembered feeling since being a little child.

My heart begins to do this clenching sensation the moment I’ve stepped in the room.

Is it because it smells familiar?

I doubt it’s from the way it looks.

It appears I’ve gotten into more exercise – assumingly, my pair of fifteen pound weights sit just at the wall with a set of workout gloves. I had to shrug away from that and examine the room again.

I like the idea of white and grey pallets, and though they’re way to simple, the things I’ve added compliment its design from the gratifying window shades with classic curtains that lead up to a quite up to date desk area and desktop (wondering if I paid for that, I know it looks expensive) I’ve cluttered up just a bit.

I’m keen on pictures. I didn’t collect them as much but I recall Jongdae saying I owed him back his polaroid –I borrowed this so it seems. I find a clip zip-line of polaroid pictures relating my fragmented times.

I wrote on them too.

For the time being, I gape at the really heartwarming pictures and read everything out loud.

“It’s us, Baekhyun and Taehyung.” I sense we look pretty much like brothers and laugh at the next one, “The Twin no one wanted.” Again it’s this Taehyung person. Of course I know his name, seen him in a few school videos –I know him and remember faintly.

I enjoyed and cared about this so much that I even created a zip-line for my family. “Good,” I smile approvingly.

Though nothing triggers, seeing my baby sister the day she was born in a picture gives me these emotions beyond explaining. “How lovely…” I murmur on over to lightly scratch at the back of my head out of whim.

I don’t know what to do now and planning to leave the house will be against all we discussed.

My feet led me then to the bed. I sit here at the foot of it quietly. It’s not the same but that’s not what got me staring admissive –again I think about that man in the picture. He’s nowhere to be found in this room. It seems evident once I think back. We aren’t close.

“I can’t find him here, so where could he be?” There are at least a number of people in these photos with me or being taken of; with a sound amount of valid participation in my life. I don’t want to believe that in these four months that I never kept record of a friend. But there are only just two pictures –all together nothing but this store can make it all answer my questions among the billion others.

To start working there again I’d need to get permission, or very well take the night shift and sneak out. I wondered if I had the contact information of where I used to work.

“I always wrote down important numbers…” But that’s going to be difficult. I don’t know if I still have that specific book.

After blinking insanely at the pressure arising from forming up another headache I chuck myself back onto the bed for the time being.

I want to take this slow –remembering is what’s important; yet by being around that