EIGHT

He never replied my letters and that was disheartening. It felt as though I was writing to no one and for nothing.

It was surprisingly easy for me to return to normal like nothing had ever happened; like my soul hadn’t experienced meeting its mate or that my heart was no longer with me. Maybe it was because there were no longer any links to that island, not even him.

I refused to take a year gap and although it felt like pure torture I managed to catch up with my lessons. I had to take therapy for my increasing depression that hits every now and then but no one truly understood because no one knew.

My mother did not know and that meant no one knew about Baekhyun. I talked about him but I was scared and uneasy about how my parents will react if they knew their only child was in love with her kidnapper. It sounded nasty and really bad if we think about it and that was why I was afraid.

I felt like a coward being unable to tell anyone about how I had fell in love and that every night I cry for his hugs. The therapist was not really helpful because I did not tell him anything useful but it was not like he will be able to solve anything anyway.

But I refused to be what I was anymore and the people around me understood and gave me the space I needed. I could no longer be positive about everything and everyday as I wait for his letters it just seemed worse and worse.

The first year I wrote to him about everything I felt, everything that was happening and all the pain that I had to endure. I wrote to him when I was especially down, when I felt like nothing was good anymore and when I was rock-bottom. It settled me, knowing that someone was out there was reading this and understood me. The memories of his smile and his warm hugs and his soft kisses made me go on. I was strong when I thought I was going back to him and then I would be a little more positive but months passed and still not one letter came, not one word and that drove me to be so hurt. It was like love given but not received.

I missed him so much it hurt and it hurt even more when I would hear nothing back. I arranged everything for him, giving him instructions of what to do to return a letter but still none came.

It made me doubt the love he had. Was I the only one who gave in this love? Was he on the island laughing as my letters burned in the fireplace? Why is it that he never replies? Do my letters not reach him?

I had nightmares and although they weren’t bad it made me cry and cry over the rift that I felt had happened between us. I couldn’t help but felt rejected. Water and land separated us but I was still trying to link us but I was the only trying and that will never be enough.

The second year I stopped writing daily, my hopes lessened and my pain sky-rocketed. This was the year I over worked myself to sleep and exhaustion and I had to be hospitalized at least three times. I would stop sending letters for months and then guilt would overtake me and I would send him bulks and bulks of it.

The problem of not being understood, of not receiving love that I had completely given myself to and the anxiety that kept building made me lose sight of what I was becoming. I felt like I was drowning but no one was coming to my rescue.

My parents and friends were worried about my well being and I was asked several times to just drop everything and get some rest. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t drop my studies because that was the only thing that distracted me and I just couldn’t drop my heart that was in pain.

The second half of the third year I began to be able to accept my situation. It was the same as the first day in the island altogether; accept it and live well or die in misery. The third year began to bring changes and new courses in my life. I began to write a letter a month for him. I was becoming settled. I tried to cut him off, although unthinkable I did try but I just couldn’t. He clung onto me with every scent I smelled, every scenery I saw, every person I came across. I decided to stop trying so hard, to stop expecting so much and take it one step at a time.

I returned to normal, if this even was normal.

Depression stopped hitting me so often and I was able to laugh again.

My life felt suffocating; it was almost like you had been under water for so long that you forgot how breathing felt like. The third year was like the first gulp of air you take as you submerge from the water. My heart was troubled less often and I reminded myself to cherish the love that I had for the poor boy.

His case was no longer valid and he was assumed to be dead because I gave a false account on my return. I had told them that he had gone away after leaving me on that island and that I never heard of him again. I wanted people to stop looking for him and so added that some people on the island were talking about a dead body that they found by the water. Luckily for me they assumed that I hated Baekhyun, they believed me and his case was closed.

I'm so envious, how easy is it for them, I thought as they closed the case. They had no idea that Baekhyun lives in fear because of them. It was like this paper and its case determined his life.

But I thought about it. What if I changed his name and bring him over? Would he be able to survive? He was fragile and so precious. I wanted him to be always happy and not burdened with anything. This new society no longer cared about anything and everyone was so selfish, me included.

* * *

“Okay so this Minseok that everybody is talking about right now is from a family that is filthy rich.” One of my girl-friends explained over coffee, her expression and her hands all going with the flow, “He’s a stud, honestly. He is cute but he’s incredibly handsome as well. I thought that wasn’t possible before I saw him. He’s also extremely smart. It’s just so annoying how he seemed to be blessed with everything.”

I was mentally absent as I hummed along to whatever she was saying. Surprisingly on such a beautiful day when the sun was out and about, the sky was blue and the breeze was wonderful I let my mind drift off to such days back on the island. I was finally coming out of the extreme self pity that had dragged me down. College was turning out to be back to normal where I would have fun with my friends, be excited to learning something new, be active in group projects and be bored during lectures that never seemed to end all over again. 

“Apparently he is arrogant as fudge and that nothing manages to shake him. People obviously try to be friendly with him but he brushes all of them off like dust. He has no friends,” she leans in scarily making me turn my attention to her, “I saw him walking around like stuck up gum with his expensive clothes and stuff.”

“People these days,” I said with my eyes darting everywhere as I supported whatever she was trying to say. She nodded her head in a satisfied manner as though very glad that I was following along and agreeing with whatever she wanted to say.

“Anyhow why that is you never hang out with a guy?” She turns the topic around as she folded her arms and rested it on the table with a serious expression. She looks as though she was going to start a discussion with the president of a country.

“I mean I understand why till last year blah, blah but at least now that you are better why don’t you go out and find someone? I think it’ll help you a lot.”

I snorted at that. Help me with what exactly? Like any guy will even look at me in the first place or like my heart can even move for anyone else. Baekhyun had set my standards sky high and it was going to be hard to replace him and I wasn’t planning to do so anyway.
And besides now that I’m fine, in a sound mind I had planned well that once I started working and getting paychecks I was going to get out of here and go find him. I could never rely on my parents for that.

“What? Speak up.” She disturbed my line of thoughts. I only threw her an annoyed and bored expression.

“I doubt any guy will even like me. Besides my depression isn’t really a good thing.” I mumbled as I picked up my coffee and took a sip of it.

“Why are you depressed anyway?” She flicked her perfect hair and gave me a concerned look and I wanted to hit her.

I hated that question more than anything. My parents ask me, my friends ask me and the only people who don’t are random strangers on the internet who don’t since they have experienced it as well.

But then she doesn’t know anything about it. I told myself and released my curled fists. They have never experienced anything; they didn’t know what it was like to be depressed about nothing.

I smile at her. “It’s nothing big. Don’t worry.”
But it was nothing small either and I was always worried.

* * *

The quiet library was very relaxing after having people shout at you the whole day. It was a place to still my heart that goes leaping and pounding at times or when its troubled.

Here I come and write my feelings out- all of it addressed to Baek. Here I reminisce about the days where I taught him to write better and teaching him all what he asked me. Our college had three libraries and this one was least visited and that was what I needed.

Baekhyun had a bigger role in my life than I had imagined. He was everywhere in my thoughts scattering his beautiful smile to all the corners of my life. He was present merely for some months but that was enough for him to get hold of me around