I sit on the bed, staring to nothingness. My alarm goes off aloud and I sigh as I turn it off. The sun is finally out and peeking through the curtains. I have been awake since 3 a.m. Doing nothing and just breathing in the dark. I might have lied if I said I wasn’t thinking of anything. I do. Lots of thoughts going through my mind. None of them aren’t scary to me. It feels like I am standing on the top of the cliff and each thought pushes me closer to the edge. I don’t want to fall but it seems like I deserve to.

This kind of torture has been terrorizing me every single day without fail. And I am tired of it. But it won’t stop.

A year ago, I wasn’t like this. My mornings were wonderful. My nights were lovely. Everything in between was much more indescribable. All because of him.

He was beautiful. Beyond perfection.

The undying spark in his eyes.

The creases that appeared when his eyes were partly closed.

The mole he always ashamed of.

They were all beautiful to me.

Everything was too good to be true.

I often told him that he was a fool. For choosing someone like me. I lacked in many ways. If there were anything I was good at, it might be destroying things. His feelings weren’t excluded.

He would always laugh it off. He said if he could handle me, he would survive through anything else for sure. Be it storm or a rampage of assignments or zombie apocalypse. To him, I was above them all.

I told him he would regret it. Which I guess he did.

I left him kneeling on the floor. I slammed the door on his face.

I walked away thinking I had won in life.

I can’t forget the way he looked at me on the night of our break-up. It was full of doubts and hurt. He knew I wasn’t being myself. He knew my teary eyes were the silent screams of my love for him. That I still wanted him. If only he had caught and counted the seconds my eyes wavered in hesitation. But no. I was faster to take action. My pride got in the way and I left.

It turns out I am the loser.

Honestly, I was scared. What if we were still together and he was the one who walked away from me? Back then, we always found ourselves tangled in fights. There was never a day we never fought, from the gifts he got from his secret admirers to the drink he chose in a café which happened to be the same one with the order of the previous female customer and more. It was endless. Thanks to my temper.

Before my love to him grew bigger, I decided to leave. So I would get less hurt. Little damage would only be done, I did well and it was the right thing, were what I thought.

That is the biggest mistake in my life.

With him gone, my life falls back at zero. Holes here and there. They aren’t empty holes though. They are long, suffocating roads of self-destruction. As there is no one there, next to me, to embrace my flaws.

His absence is both physical and mental abuse to me. Memories of him seem to remain to remind me that I once had it all but I was the idiot to let go. He, too, is a lesson that is inerasable. Twelve months pass by, I am still dwelling over it.

That is why I find it hard. Each day, each breath, I would die a little inside. Bearing with the lost is one thing. Struggling to keep on living is another.

The ringing of the phone drags me back to the reality.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Jihye.” The voice on the other side is sweet. Just like the sugar cubes I have stopped mixing in my coffee because it could remind me of my ex who is a sugar addict. And I am personally bitter inside out to begin with.

“Morning,” I reply thoughtlessly. Noticing the unintended ice in my tone, I melt it off with a chuckle, “Why are you calling this early?”

“Oh,” he joins in, chuckling, “I’m just wondering if you are already up. Kind of excited to see you today for our date.”

My heart sinks as guilt caves in. A date. Sounds like a dare to me. That if I went to this date, will I stop comparing him to my ex? As our first one seems to be a total failure on that aspect.

“Minhyun.” His name comes off odd at the tip of my tongue. I am still awkward that my chief executive’s son is my date. His dad is my superior at work and there he is, giving me flowers, chocolates and smiles. I never knew doing personal errand in behalf of my superior would get me a date with his son. Oh, now I know. There will be no next time for that. I will never do it again. Maybe I would, if I wore a helmet or a piece of laver stuck in front of my upper teeth.

Most of the time at work, I hear praises about his son and how match-made-in-heaven we both are. I do get scolding like any other intern does. But mine is softer. And biased. If I ever got the job for a permanent position, I should prepare to be the wife of his son or quit the job. There is no in between.

“Yes?” He hums innocently.

“Should we wear matching color?”

I know. I just have to. I need to get out from my past.

There is a moment of silence before he speaks again, “That’s unexpected.” Surprise was vivid in his tone.

“Is it too early for that?”

“No, I like it. I really like it!”

We talk for five more minutes and end it at a loving note. We exchange ‘I can’t wait to see you’.

Now that I have graduated and restart as a new person, I shall move on. My temper is better than before. Why should I hold myself back this time?