Just a quick note: there are a few mentions of suicide toward the end.

There’s a cracked ceiling tile right above him. The whole room smells like antiseptic and he can’t keep still, fingers fidgeting with anything he can reach as his feet swing mindlessly under the chair he’s sat in. He’s always had an irrational hatred for places like this, the doctors in white coats, playing god, ruining lives. It makes him sick, makes his stomach turn. Yet, here he is, waiting for his name to be called, waiting to have his eye pierced with a needle. He’s glad they aren’t going to need to check his blood pressure, because he’s sure it’s through the roof at this point.

A year ago, when his mother was still alive, she’d begged him to join her, to find out his expiration date with her, but he’d refused. Why anyone would want to know how long they have to live, he’ll never understand. That was one of the last conversations he had with her, an argument about coming to this place, the very room he’s sitting in now, glaring at the flickering fluorescent lights. He told himself that’s why he’s here today. His mother’s last wish for him; the last thing she’d wanted them to do together, he’s finally doing it. Maybe, just maybe, if there is some sort of afterlife, she’ll know he’s fulfilling her wish and it’ll make her happy.

“Byun Baekhyun?”

This is it, he thinks to himself, heart picking up to a rate that should be impossible. He stands and has to give himself a moment to just breathe, and also wipe the sweat that’s been collecting on his palms. The doctor asks if he’s ready, to which Baekhyun nods, and he’s swept away down a dimly lit hallway, the doctor’s rambling voice muffled by the sound of Baekhyun’s heart beating wildly in his ears.

The room he’s taken to is equally dull, white walls, nothing decorating them. There’s a small table against the far wall covered with a thin cushion. He’s instructed to sit and, after the doctor finally takes a good look at him, to relax. The smile Baekhyun tries comes off more as a grimace.

“You’re aware of the procedure, yes or no?” Baekhyun shrugs, he’s heard stories, knows a few people who’ve been here. “Now, it may seem intimidating, but I promise you won’t feel a thing.” The doctor turns his back to dig through a drawer in the small desk/sink combo along the other wall. “With this,” he says, holding up a syringe, “I’ll give you a small ocular injection, the fluid will disperse. It may glow or change color, but that will only last a short while; so, no driving for a few hours, don’t want any accidents.” He smiles, but it does nothing to settle Baekhyun’s nerves. “Once the solution, the chemical agent, once that’s absorbed, I’ll shine a little laser light to the back of your eye and it’ll give me a readout. It’s like scanning your internal barcode, your DNA. Ready?”

A deep breath and a weak nod, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He’s leaned back, head resting on the poorly cushioned table. He notes how uncomfortable the ugly, cracking vinyl is as he tilts his head to watch the doctor prepare the proper tools. The light catches the needle just right and Baekhyun’s breath stutters, catching in his chest. “Um,” he lets out weakly, unsure. “I-I don’t think I can do this.” He begins to sit up but is stopped by the doctor’s hand grasping his shoulder, a tight, firm grip.

“Now, just calm down. Many people panic when they see the needle, but I can assure you, you won’t feel a thing.”

“How?” Baekhyun asks, being shoved back into place by the hand that won’t release his shoulder.

“I’ll put some drops in your eye, just a local anesthetic. You won’t feel a thing,” the doctor reassures, pearly white smile on display. “You’ll see the needle coming, which I know is scary, but rest assured you won’t feel it. You can trust me.”

Baekhyun releases a slow breath through pursed lips and nods, releases the white-knuckle grip he has on the sides of the table he’s lying on. “O-okay,” another long breath, “Okay, I’m ready.”

What the doctor said is true, after the numbing drops, Baekhyun doesn’t feel the needle piercing through the cornea. He does see it though, watches it move closer and closer, raising his blood pressure as he grips the table for dear life. He nearly jumps when he feels the sharp point make contact, grateful he can only feel pressure and not the pain. As the solution flows from the needle’s hollow point he can feel the much cooler temperature of it engulfing the inside of his eye. When it begins to luminesce a soft blue, he gasps. The color takes over his vision, the dim glow all he can see through that eye.

“That will only last for an hour at the most,” the doctor chuckles, already placing the needle back on the countertop. “Now you see why we suggest patients not drive themselves home, can’t see a thing through that eye.”

Baekhyun blinks a couple times; he doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but he swears he can feel the injected liquid sloshing around in his eye. He can see himself in the mirror hanging on the back of the door, one normal eye, one glowing a faint blue from the inside. He thinks of his mother now; had her eye glowed like this? Was she as nervous as him? He wishes now, much too late, that he had gone with her that day. He wishes she was here for him now.

“Alright now,” the doctor pats a seat in front of a machine sitting atop a table, “come sit in this chair so I can get the scan.”

The moment of truth Baekhyun thinks. His legs are as numb as his eye as he stands, slowly approaches the chair, sits. He feels like he’s somewhere outside his body, watching things happen from above. The doctor moving to stand beside him, reaching around to turn the machine on, leaning Baekhyun forward so that his chin rests on the cold plastic of the machine, keeping his eye in place.

“When it beeps, keep your eye open and don’t move it; stare straight ahead at the little red dot.” The doctor turns a few nobs, presses a button, and Baekhyun holds his breath.

A bright red shines into his eye but he doesn’t move, just as the doctor ordered. The light moves up, then down, then back up; and a final beep is given off into the silent room, signaling the completion of the scan. A small paper ejects from the printer at the edge of the table and the doctor snatches it up; Baekhyun sits back in the chair now, releasing his held breath, and looks to the doctor for his answer.

“Oh my.”

“Ah, I’m so glad you’re home. Tell Kyungsoo never to get you up so early for editing again.” He drapes his long arms all over Baekhyun’s smaller frame and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I missed you all morning.”

Baekhyun wipes the spit from his cheek with the back of his hand, grossed out, but he can’t help the fond smile from forming. He looks up at Chanyeol, absolutely beaming at the dark, disheveled hair and sleepy, puffy eyes.

He puts his hands on his hips. “Really? You missed me?” He quirks an eyebrow at Chanyeol’s clearly just-woken-up appearance. “All morning?” He toes his shoes off and hangs his jacket on the hook beside the door, stopping midway through to pinch at Chanyeol’s small tummy hanging over his sweats. “You sure you didn’t just wake up at,” he looks to his wrist to check his watch, “one in the afternoon?”

Chanyeol smiles, eyes closed, and leans to rest his chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “I still missed you, though.”

Baekhyun chuckles, “I missed you too.” He steps away from the door and places the plastic bag he’d been holding on the coffee table, turning on his heel to immediately return to Chanyeol. The hug he’s pulled into soothes him, makes his stomach flip even after so many years. He melts into Chanyeol’s arms, buries his face in his chest and takes a deep breath, enjoying the familiar, welcoming scent. “I love you.”

When Baekhyun’s eyes finally open and he looks up to notice Chanyeol staring at him, he’s caught off guard. “What?”

Chanyeol doesn’t answer, he only shakes his head and plants a kiss to the top of Baekhyun’s. “Love you more,” he murmurs into the sandy brown hair. Baekhyun’s face tucks further into Chanyeol’s body; he’s smiling, but he’s using every bit of self-control he has to keep himself from crying.

They met in college; Chanyeol a clumsy, energetic communications major and Baekhyun, a miserably stressed accounting major. They were a year apart, in age and grade, Baekhyun being the older, and their first meeting was anything but ordinary.

It was in the undergraduate library where Baekhyun would frequently hide away in to get some quiet time away from his annoying roommate that he met Chanyeol. Or, rather, Chanyeol stumbled across him sitting on the floor, mumbling to himself about numbers, dangerously close to tears. Neither of them can remember the specifics of the conversation they’d struck up that morning, but it ended with phone numbers being exchanged and a plan to meet up for drinks later that day, after Baekhyun got the chance to get back to his dorm and clean himself up; he’d spilled coffee on himself moments prior to Chanyeol finding him and that’s what started his downward spiral into panicking about his life choices thus far.

Drinks went well, a little too well. Baekhyun still, to this day, refuses to let Chanyeol tell the true story of how easily he flirted his way into Baekhyun’s pants that night. Baekhyun expected it to be a one-time thing, as most college ual experiences are, but when he woke up the next morning and Chanyeol made him breakfast and kissed him in the doorway before he left, he knew it was going to be much more.

They became a couple quickly after that. Baekhyun dropped out of college, after much debating and many late night conversations with his friends, and Chanyeol. His parents were angry, but he couldn’t be happier. He hated accounting; his passion was writing. All he’d ever wanted to do was become a published author. Chanyeol said he knew a guy, a family friend, Kyungsoo, who was a well-known editor that he could put Baekhyun in contact with. And just like that, Baekhyun’s life was falling perfectly into place, with Chanyeol right there by his side.

When they moved in together Baekhyun spent most of his time in front of his laptop typing, grunting, wanting to pull his hair out. He had so many great ideas, but he just couldn’t get the words out. Writing was his passion, but it wasn’t coming easy to him. He wanted to feel like a failure, but Chanyeol wouldn’t let him. Chanyeol cheered Baekhyun on, was his biggest fan, avidly read every single word Baekhyun typed. He was the push, the encouragement Baekhyun needed. And, after a year, Baekhyun was ready to take his manuscript to editing.

Kyungsoo tore the book apart. Baekhyun had never seen so much red ink on paper before. The old feeling of failure returned, but it was fleeting. He took the pages and decided he’d prove Kyungsoo wrong, prove that he could write a book worthy of being published. And he did. Two years into their relationship, Baekhyun’s first book was published and readers went wild for it. Stores were selling out, ordering more, then selling out again. Baekhyun was in awe; Chanyeol only smiled and told him he knew he could do it.

Ten years later finds the couple in a much nicer house, a bank account that would make most jealous, and a love that hasn’t faded in the slightest. Baekhyun is famous, has been on talk shows, has actual fans. And still, none of it means half as much to him as Chanyeol does.

As for Chanyeol, he graduated a communications major and became a journalist. He lives a humble life, going to work each day to write for a newspaper, and he enjoys it immensely. Baekhyun is fully supportive of his career choice and reads everything Chanyeol writes.

They support each other, love each other, and are each other’s biggest fans. And, it’s been that way for twelve years.

Baekhyun watches Chanyeol as he pours them each a cup of coffee then turns to flash one of his big, bright smiles. Baekhyun sighs. Chanyeol, the only constant in his life. The first and only person Baekhyun has ever kissed, ever loved. The tall, rowdy boy on campus that made Baekhyun’s heart flutter and tongue trip over words. How did he get so lucky to fall in love with someone so perfect?

Chanyeol sits at the kitchen table across from Baekhyun. “So, you and Soo get any work done with the new book?”

Baekhyun closes his eyes and inhales the scent of the coffee in his mug. He hums before looking to Chanyeol. “Some, yeah.” He hates lying, especially to Chanyeol. “We worked on the ending of the third chapter.”

“Oh, where he said you needed to switch some paragraphs around?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun smiles, he loves how invested Chanyeol is in his writing. “I think it’s all worked out now.”

They drink their coffee and chat a little more. Baekhyun is dead tired, but he stays awake, agrees to spend the day with Chanyeol since it’s his day off. They finish their coffees together, mostly in silence; Chanyeol fills Baekhyun in on what’s been going on at work (his new editor is an absolute monster, has sent Chanyeol’s latest article back three different times to be rewritten).

“I’ve been telling you for how long you should just start your own newspaper?” Baekhyun asks, elbow leaning against the sink as he watches Chanyeol rinse out their cups. “I know you could do it…take Kyungsoo with you to be editor. It would be perfect.”

“Yeah but,” Chanyeol’s shoulders slump, “I don’t want to own a newspaper, just write for one. And this new editor won’t let me do that. I have no idea what crawled up her , but she hates literally everything I write.”

Baekhyun slips his arms around Chanyeol’s waist, nuzzling into his soft sweater. “I love the things you write.”

“Not helping.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun chuckles into Chanyeol’s back and leans away, giving Chanyeol the space he needs to reach over and place a dish on the drying rack. “I’m sure she’ll come around,” he shrugs, “it’s impossible for someone to not like you.”

At this, Chanyeol sighs. He turns the water off and dries his hands on the towel hanging from one of the drawers. “She can hate me all she wants; I just want her to appreciate my work.”

Baekhyun grins, raising an eyebrow at a pouty Chanyeol. “Well,” he says, putting on the charm, dragging his fingertips down Chanyeol’s front, “Why don’t you follow me to the bedroom and let meappreciate your hardwork?” He takes a step back, amused at how easily, and quickly, Chanyeol follows, and in a matter of seconds they’re falling into bed together kissing and laughing.

Sometimes their bedroom can get a little wacky with the temperature. Winter nights can get too cold, no matter how high the heat is set, and summer nights too hot, regardless of the air conditioning. But now, as they sit beside each other , only the thin silky sheet covering them, the air in the room is perfect. Baekhyun is lost in a comfortable bliss with his head resting on Chanyeol’s shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around him from behind. He takes in a slow breath and lets it out along with a smile. He’s content.

Chanyeol’s attention is held by the television, though his fingers still work to gently the soft skin of Baekhyun’s arm. It’s some cooking competition show; Chanyeol loves those. Baekhyun only watches because he enjoys listening to Chanyeol, the man who once exploded a pot of boiling eggs, yell at the contestants and tell them exactly what they’re doing wrong. Chanyeol may be an idiot, but he’s Baekhyun’s idiot and nothing in life will ever make Baekhyun happier than that fact.

The show goes to commercial and Baekhyun rearranges himself, head now lying in Chanyeol’s lap so that he can look up at the handsome man.

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like without me?” he asks seriously, watching Chanyeol’s eyes narrow, though he doesn’t look away from the television.

“No. Why would I?”

Baekhyun frowns and pinches at Chanyeol’s side to get his full attention. “I’m serious,” he whines, “Do you think you could be as happy as you are right now…if I wasn’t here?”

“Baek…What? What made you think of that all of a sudden?” Chanyeol scoots up, brings Baekhyun with him and pulls him into a full, two-armed hug. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he lies, “You didn’t answer my question though. Would you…no, could you be happy without me?”

Chanyeol smiles, a crooked, playful smile. “Is this a weird way of telling me you want to break up? Because if so—”

“Yeol, please,” Baekhyun’s hand is covering Chanyeol’s mouth, his eyes pleading with him to take this seriously. “Please.”

“I…” Chanyeol’s eyes narrow, brows scrunch together, as he thinks, “…no. I can’t imagine a life without you.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth, ready to elaborate, but Baekhyun stops him with a kiss. He pulls away and promptly curls up against Chanyeol, pressing tight into his side, tucking his face down to hide how choked up he is. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you too,” Chanyeol says easily, voice laced with concern, but he doesn’t carry the conversation any further.

It isn’t long before sleep overtakes them both. Baekhyun tries to stay awake, tries to watch the light of the television flicker across Chanyeol’s sleeping face, but he’s much too tired. His head bobs and eyes become heavy, and finally, he falls asleep with his side pressed against Chanyeol. He falls asleep thinking about time, and how he only wishes he could have more.

The sun hasn’t even begun to peek through the windows yet, and Chanyeol is waking with a panicked gasp, bolting upright in bed. His arm reaches, searches the cold empty space beside him, nothing is there but still-tucked in, pristine sheets. He stands, feet uncertain as he fumbles into the dark, hands shaking as they search. “Baekhyun,” he calls into the quiet. “Baekhyun!” he calls once again, hoping for an answer.

He bumps the desk at the far side of the room and grasps for the cord, pulling to turn on the lamp. It’s when the pale yellow light hits the room, that Chanyeol realizes, all over again.

The pain digs at him, fresh as it was the day it happened. His hands sit flat atop the oaken desk and he hiccups as he holds back his sob. “,” he whispers, voice distant and hushed, seeming to come from somewhere far from him.

It’s been weeks, weeks since he left, but still he wakes like this more often than he’d like, more often than he’ll ever admit. He forgets when he dreams; Baekhyun is there with him, smiling, happy, beautiful. So, he wakes in confusion, unable to find him, panicked and grief-stricken as if it’s only just happened yesterday. And, he doesn’t know how to cope.

He sits in the desk chair, Baekhyun’s chair, the one he’d sit in to write, or spin himself dizzy in when writer’s block would strike. Chanyeol gulps; the chair he’d made love to Baekhyun in too many times to recall now. He smiles at the bittersweet memories, then closes his eyes to keep himself from crying; he’s done more than enough of that recently.

When he reaches his arms out he’s careful not to disturb Baekhyun’s untouched workspace. The notebooks, loose sheets of paper, pens, all sprawled across the surface, preserved exactly as Baekhyun had last left them. He gently fingers along the sticky notes stuck to the wall, the single pink one on the lamp with a note left to remind him to edit page 126 of his current work.

He’s carefully eyeing Baekhyun’s organized mess when he spots that notebook; the one Baekhyun had grown quite fond of.

Chanyeol chews anxiously at his lip, the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should. Should he read it? Should he invade Baekhyun’s personal thoughts?

It doesn’t take long, a few minutes at most and the curiosity is eating away at Chanyeol’s patience. He’ll read it, he decides, but only a few pages; he doesn’t want to dishonor Baekhyun any further than a slight invasion of privacy.

But still, it’s hard. His fingers tremble as they reach for the small notebook. It’s not Baekhyun’s usual spiral, but one of those black and white composition notebooks; Chanyeol doesn’t think he’d ever seen Baekhyun use one of these before this one.

He flips open the cover as he holds his breath, unable to shake the guilty feeling growing in his chest. But he has to know, needs to know what Baekhyun spent so much time working on before things went wrong. So, he reads.

Hi Yeollie

Chanyeol sits back in the chair, mouth agape, trying his best to keep his breath steady. This is surreal, he thinks, a letter from Baekhyun. He clears his throat and straightens up in the chair, pulls the notebook closer to himself and begins to read.

“Kyungsoo!”

Chanyeol is out of breath, chest heaving from the near mile he just ran. He tried calling; as soon as he placed Baekhyun’s notebook back on the desk, he reached for his phone and dialed Kyungsoo. Too impatient to leave a voicemail or wait for a call back, he jumped into his shoes and took off out the door.

Now, he’s standing on the other end of Kyungsoo’s office door, pounding like a maniac with a clenched fist. He knows the workers in their cubicles are staring but he doesn’t care, refuses to let anything shift him from this course he’s on.

“Soo, open the door, it’s important!”

The door finally flings open. Kyungsoo’s nostrils are flared, a sure sign of annoyance, and he blinks slowly. “I am in a meeting, Chanyeol, what is it?”

Baekhyun’s notebook is shoved into Kyungsoo’s hands without any explanation. Chanyeol waves a hand at him, motioning for him to open and read it. Kyungsoo sighs, shifts from one foot to the other, giving in because he knows Chanyeol is persistent.

Chanyeol follows Kyungsoo’s eyes as they move across the page, reading Baekhyun’s words. He watches Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, his lips part, realization hitting him like a train. “This is,” he begins, but doesn’t finish, choosing to continue reading instead. He flips the page, takes a quick look up at Chanyeol, then flips another page.

“I just found it. I called as soon as I finished reading.” Chanyeol’s face crumbles, jaw trembling; he moves forward and Kyungsoo lets him rest his chin atop his head, even wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s shaking shoulders.

“Hey…hey, it’s okay,” Kyungsoo says, trying to soothe his friend. “It’s alright, Yeol.” He steps back and pulls Chanyeol into his office by a shirtsleeve. “Come sit, I’ll tell my business partners to come back later.”

When Kyungsoo closes the notebook he laces his fingers neatly atop his desk and clears his throat; the sound causes Chanyeol to finally look up from his lap. “He left that for me,” he chokes out, breath stuttering as he attempts a smile. He’s watching Kyungsoo, waiting with bated breath, anxious to hear what he has to say.

“This is…I don’t know what to say.” Kyungsoo blinks, just blinks, as he stares at Chanyeol. “Yeol I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Baekhyun begged me not to.” He looks down at his hands, ashamed, regretful. “I had no idea he was writing this.”

“I want you to publish it,” Chanyeol says softly, meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. “I want people to read this, to see what he went through.” He stands and crosses the room, placing his hands on Kyungsoo’s desk, he leans in. “I’m gonna put an end to this.”

Kyungsoo looks up at Chanyeol, can see the anguish in his eyes, the pain he’s been keeping to himself for weeks seeping out through the tears now staining his cheeks. He nods. “Okay,” he says, “Okay, I’ll publish it.”

May 4, 2018

Hi Yeollie, I’m sure I’m long gone by now since you’re reading this; I know you’d never snoop through my things unless you really, really missed me. I’m not mad at you for it, I’m glad you finally did, to be honest. I know I’m not there to explain myself, and how selfish I’ve been toward you in the past few months, so I figured I’d start this notebook off with the explanation you deserve.

Writing this now, I’m still unsure of what led me to do it. Maybe it was for my mother, like I’d convinced myself back in the waiting room of the clinic. Maybe it was just old-fashioned, human morbid curiosity. We’ll never know. But, I went through the expiration date procedure without you knowing. I told you I had an early meeting with Kyungsoo this morning, that was a lie that I’d like to apologize for now.

It’s a little confusing writing this; I know you’re reading this days, weeks, maybe even months later, but right now, as the ink is currently drying, I learned of the day I’ll die just a few short hours ago. The writer in me is struggling with tenses.

My precious Yeollie, I know you must be so confused. Hell, I’m confused. And angry, scared. God, I’m terrified, Yeollie. I only have 154 days left to live. 154 short days with you. I’m not going to tell you. I can’t. I don’t want you to treat me differently. I’d like for our remaining time together to be spent as it always is. Was. I want to wake up beside you, roll my eyes at your abhorrent snoring, but still kiss you awake just so that I can see your sleepy smile I’ve loved for so long. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, you know this.

Now, to my present tense Yeollie that’s reading this. I’m sorry for keeping such a secret from you. But, I can’t imagine the hurt you feel to be any different, any less, had you known. I hope you buried me in that lavender button-down you love, and I hope you didn’t cry too much. I hope our friends and family stuck close to your side and kept that happy spark alive in you. Please smile for me, Yeollie, it lights up the world when you do.

I bought this notebook on my way home earlier. I’m unsure of what I plan to fill it with, perhaps a story for you to find and read; a small token of my appreciation to you and everything you’ve been for me through the years. Yes, I’ll write you a story. About us. How perfect it will be, our last days together forever memorialized on paper.

May 5, 2018

How many ways can you tell someone, show them, you love them? Is it possible to try something new every day? Do you think that there is some ultimate, grand gesture of love? A way to truly convey butterflies in your stomach caused by a smile, a blush tinting your cheeks pink because of sweet nothings whispered into your ear. Can a boy use the rest of his time, his short time, to make the one he loves feel just how loved he is? He’ll try. He’ll hold him longer before bed. He’ll kiss him with more passion than he’s ever put into anything. He’ll squeeze his hand when their fingers are laced, and smile just because. But still, it won’t be enough. Nothing could ever be enough. Not with the amount of time he has. It would take years, decades, eternities for him to show his lover that nothing matters in this world more than he does.

Keeping secrets is a hard thing to do.

May 6, 2018

I wonder if I should try writing poetry? I tried to once in high school but I was awful. I remember the teacher actually cringing as she read the poem I’d turned it. Yeah, maybe I’ll stick to what I know.

Today is my birthday. I’m 32 today and it’s a kind of weird feeling, knowing this is the last birthday I’ll ever experience. 32. What a short life, but I’ve lived so happily. I truly couldn’t ask for more, except for time maybe, but that’s something beyond anyone’s control. I had a small party, just me and Yeollie and a few close friends. It was really nice, a nice send off, I think.

I almost told you today…I was so close to slipping my secret to you; curse alcohol and its ability to loosen my lips.

Oh, Chanyeol, you looked so cute today. I absolutely adore that striped cardigan you have that you wear all the time. I know I always make fun of you for wearing the same outfits over and over, but I secretly love it. Besides, you look handsome in everything. You’re sitting beside me now, watching your stupid cooking show. I hate that show, but I love watching you watch it. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, well, in the past two days. I’ve decided to write something every day in this notebook. 154 entries. One for every one of our last days together. I hope I’ll keep this journal light hearted for you, so when you finally stumble upon it, it’ll be something that can make you smile and think back to how in love with me you were and how happy I made you. Ah, you’re whining at me to come have birthday cuddles. Gotta go!

May 7, 2018

I hate reading stories written in first person. I hate it so so much, I know you know this. I gotta figure out a way to write this so you won’t have to read first person, because it’s the worst. Let me try something.

They enjoyed a lazy day today, just alone together at their shared home, huddled close on the couch. It was one of those rare occasions where they both had nothing to do. No work, no outside responsibilities. It was just them, sharing body heat beneath a blanket, enjoying each other’s company.

Ooh, I wonder how weird it would be to write us as characters in a story? Let me try that too!

Chanyeol, at one point, looked to Baekhyun, sometime after dinner when they were brushing their teeth beside each other in front of the bathroom sink. He grinned around the toothbrush in his mouth, minty foam lining his lips like a child, and bumped Baekhyun’s hip with his own.

“What was that for?” Baekhyun asked, shooting his husband a playful glare.

“You’re just cute.”

Oh yeah, this is super weird. I feel like I’m in high school writing Harry Potter fanfiction all over again, but this time it’s my actual real life. Maybe I’ll just stick to a journal entry type thing and hope you’ll be okay with suffering through first person. Sorry! I’m gonna go climb into bed with you now!

May 8, 2018

Kyungsoo has been riding my , and not in the y way. He keeps pressuring me to finish editing this last portion of the chapter he didn’t like. I hate to admit it, but I’ve lost interest in writing that book. What’s the point, honestly? I don’t actually have enough time to finish eight more chapters. The only way I would is if I churned out absolute quality writing and passed it off to the publishers as is. And, I don’t want my last work before I’m gone to be something I wouldn’t be proud of if circumstances were different.

Kyungsoo, if you’re reading this, I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, you’ve been unbearably annoying all week.

May 9, 2018

Nothing really happened today. I’ve decided that I enjoy sitting at my desk every night and writing a little journal entry. I wish I would have started doing this sooner. It is, in all honesty, very relaxing. And, I find myself able to enjoy each day more, when I have to sit and look back through each hour spent awake. Yeollie, you should definitely try keeping a journal, it’s nice.

May 10, 2018

I had some time to myself today. Chanyeol was at work for most of the day busy with meetings and Kyungsoo away on some business of his own. I did a lot of thinking, some good, most bad. I can’t help but wonder how I’m going to die. I imagine I’m fairly healthy so I don’t think it’ll be a disease that does me in. It’s kind of scary, really. Not knowing.

How did I go, Yeollie? Was it quick? Did I die in pain? Were you there to hold me? To say goodbye? Maybe I should hide away from everyone I care about on that day, just to be safe. If it’s a car accident that kills me, I don’t want anyone to be there to suffer with me. Ah, it’s too much to think about. I should sleep.

May 11, 2018

We went to the beach today, after you basically begged me to get out of the house. I know I’ve been kind of a bummer to be around lately, and I’m sorry. But, after seeing your smiling face as we splashed around in the water today, I’ve decided to push everything aside until the end. I’ll swallow down my fear and anxiety and, not to be cliché, live life to the fullest. Chanyeol deserves at least that much from me, since I’ll be gone soon. I want to make the most of the time we have. I want him to have the best days of his life with me until then.

Did you? I hope so.

May 12, 2018

My mom has been on my mind a lot today. I wish she would have wrote a journal like this for me. I’d love to have had a glimpse inside her mind when she was waiting for death to take her. I guess it was different for her though, she’d told everyone of her date. We all knew then, when she had a week, one day left. It wasn’t unexpected when she died. But still, I find myself wondering what went on inside her mind when her time was drawing near. I can ask her myself, I imagine. Or not. I don’t know what the afterlife entails, or if it even exists. I’ll find out soon enough.

May 13, 2018

I had the best day today, oh my god. Chanyeol, the picnic date you planned for us was nothing short of perfect and I loved every second we spent together today. I hope you know that I meant it when I told you it was the best day of my life. I can’t believe we’ve been married for five years. Do you remember when we met in the undergrad library and you grabbed my hand to help me stand up because I was crying on the floor with my back to a bookshelf? I never told you, but I think I knew you were the one then. It sounds crazy right? I’d known you for all of ten minutes at that point. But I just…I just felt it, you know? You remember later that night? Oh god, it’s still embarrassing to think about. I was such an easy little college boy back then. You really got me out of my clothes in record time, I swear. I don’t regret it. I never will. Look where it got us.

May 14, 2018

I’m thinking of taking a few days, maybe a week, for myself. You must be thinking right now, wow how selfish can this kid be? But, I really need some time away from everything. I can feel myself ready to snap at any moment. I know I look so composed to you, but inside I’m crumbling. I spend nearly every waking hour thinking of how I’m going to die; I’ve become quite obsessed with it. I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life, Yeollie. Yeah, I think I’ll fake a business trip this weekend and take some time to piece my head back together.

May 15, 2018

It’s Tuesday now. I’ve started work on revising the chapter just to shut Kyungsoo up. He’s incessant and pushy, and really, I just can’t stand the thought of hearing my phone ring one more time knowing it’s only him calling to tell me to get my in gear. I’d tell him I’m dying just to get him to leave me alone, but I know he’d wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut…or keep himself from sobbing and hugging me for an uncomfortable amount of time.

May 16, 2018

Wednesday has always been my least favorite day of the week. I know everyone has a shared hatred for Mondays, but Wednesday holds a special place in the part of my heart that hates things. It’s probably tucked right beside cucumbers; those things are nasty. Anyway. I’ve been checking out hotels online, trying to figure out where I’d like to go this weekend. I think I’ve finally settled things. I’ll talk more about it when I’ve sorted the details.

May 17, 2018

I’ve booked my room and told Chanyeol about my trip. I got greedy with it and, instead of a weekend, I’m staying a week. He’s asked to come with me, but I had to politely decline his offer, reminded him he has lots of work and that I’ll be busy the entire trip. It’s scaring me, to be completely honest, how easy it’s becoming to lie. They just roll off the tongue now, at this point. I’m so sorry Chanyeol; I promised to never lie to you and look at what I’ve done. I hope you’ll forgive me.

May 18, 2018

I’m leaving later, in about an hour or two. I can tell Chanyeol is a little down; he’s been vaguely mopey all day. I wish I could take him with me, but it would defeat the purpose of this trip. I need this time alone to get my thoughts in order, amongst some other things. I randomly picked the city Oceanside in California. The place I found is quaint, a small one bedroom apartment that an elderly woman rents out; it’s right on the ocean, too. I’ve looked at pictures; it’s beautiful there. This will only be my third time visiting California, but this time isn’t for work, so I feel it’ll be much more enjoyable.

May 19, 2018

It’s morning now, and what a long flight I had. Non-stop from Chicago shouldn’t have seemed as long as it did; I’ll blame it on the crying child two rows back.

So, I’m alone now, just staring out this window at the ocean. It’s as beautiful as I thought it would be, exactly like the pictures online. If I try hard enough I can nearly hear Chanyeol’s excited voice begging me to go swim with him. I miss him. I met the person staying in the neighboring apartment; a nice guy, around my age, perhaps younger. He helped me carry my bags in and then asked me if I wanted to come to his bonfire on the beach later tonight. I told him I’d think about it.

May 20, 2018

Sunday, the day of rest. Chanyeol always called it the day of pajamas. I haven’t changed out of my comfy clothes I slept in last night, and it’s rounding 8pm now. I think I finally see the appeal in wearing pajamas all day and not moving from a soft, warm bed.

I did go to the neighbor’s, Sehun’s, bonfire last night. He’s a nice kid, 19, lots of life in him. He was all over the place last night, dragging me around, introducing me to all his friends. It was fun. I haven’t been to a college party in years; holding a red cup with a questionable amount of liquor in it had a nostalgic feel to it. I think his friends liked me, not that I care. One kid recognized me! He pulled one of my books from his bag and asked me to sign it for him.

So, my trip wasn’t a complete lie, Yeol. I told you I had a signing and I did technically sign a book for someone.

May 21, 2018

College kids never stop. Did we party this much back in college? On a Monday night? There’s just no way.

Chanyeol I’m drunk now. I spent like 20 minutes sitting in the sand crying. I looked out at the water, and the moon reflecting on the surface…and I thought about you and how much I’m going to miss you and your stupid face and stupid ears…and your laugh. God, what the ? Why does this have to be so hard? Why do I have to love you so ing much? I wish I didn’t have anyone, that I was alone, secluded. I wish there wasn’t anyone to cry for me when I die. I wish I wasn’t so terrified of never seeing you again. I wish I wasn’t such a coward and could just tell you and stop lying to you. I’m such a ty husband for keeping this from you. I asked Sehun to hold onto my phone so I wouldn’t make a stupid decision and call you to tell you everything.

I feel like I’m going to be sick.

May 22, 2018

I woke up face down on the bathroom floor this morning. What a treat it was, washing dried puke from my face. I had to scrub up a mess on the floor too. If Sehun comes knocking tonight I’ll have to pass on whatever festivities he has planned.

I’ll need to amend the above paragraph. It’s now 11:34pm and I’m, admittedly, a little drunk. Again. Something about the young, innocent look in Sehun’s eyes makes it hard to say no to him. He’s just so cheerful. There were no friends tonight; it was just him and I sitting around a small fire. It was peaceful, serene. The water pushing and pulling gently, the crackling of the fire; I wish I could live here. I wish we could live here. Sehun asked me something that caught me off guard tonight. “What’s something you want to do before you die?” I remember staring at him for a long time watching the firelight dance across his face and, I found myself unable to answer him. There are too many things I want to do before I die. An infinite amount of things. Things I’ll never get to do. Things I didn’t know I wanted to do until I knew it was too late. So, I turned the question on him and, you know what he said? “Love”. He’s a beautiful soul, Yeollie, an innocent, wonderful kid. I know he’s young, but promise me, if after I die you want to fall for someone else, promise me it’ll be this kid. He deserves the kind of love only someone with a full heart like yours can offer.

And to Sehun, if you ever somehow get the chance to read this, I wish you well in life. I’m glad we met. You were so welcoming and friendly, and were such a great reminder to me, in my short time left, that I need to enjoy each and every day. So, thank you. I’ll never forget you.

May 23, 2018

I’m getting ready to board my plane home, just wanted to jot a couple thoughts down first. I said goodbye to Sehun this morning, I’ll honestly miss him dearly. He’s such a sweet, genuine person. I gave him one of those business cards of mine that Kyungsoo forces me to carry around, told him to call me if he was ever in Chicago, promised to give him a tour of all the cool places. Whether or not I’ll actually be around to do so is another story, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Chanyeol gave me the biggest hug when I got home. He jumped off the couch and picked me up off the ground and spun me. It’s like we were apart for a month instead of just four and a half days. Little love-sick puppy, that kid. I love him.

May 24, 2018

Today was back to work for me. I mean I’ve just stayed at home all day in my lazy clothes and typed away on my laptop, but that’s work, technically. I have a meeting later at Kyungsoo’s office which I’m not looking forward to.

I’m unsure when Kyungsoo became so perceptive, or if he always has been and I’ve just never noticed. He kept asking me if something was wrong when I saw him earlier. I didn’t think I was acting strange around him. There was a moment when I was thinking about how it’ll be sad to never see him again, but I thought I kept myself together pretty well. I really hope he doesn’t keep pressing me on what’s wrong. It’s tiresome.

May 25, 2018

Not to break the pg-13 nature of this journal, but what an interesting morning I’ve had. I woke up from an extremely detailed, pleasantly filthy dream I can only assume I was having because my ual deviant of a husband decided to shove his hand in my shorts because he couldn’t fall asleep and didn’t want to be awake alone. It sounds like I’m complaining, doesn’t it? I’m not at all; that’s one of my top two ways to be woken up. The first being with food. Oh god, if only I would have woken up to simultaneously being jerked off and fed cookies; that would have been the greatest.

Okay so it’s like 3pm now and I’m bored waiting for Chanyeol to get home from work. This journal has become an integral part of my every day; it’s like a friend to talk to when no one is around. I was thinking, and I decided to make a sort of bucket list. I don’t know what I’m going to put on it, but I’ll think about it for a few days and write it down.

May 26, 2018

I’m so tired today, but I ate the best blueberry scone I’ve ever tasted for breakfast, so that was nice.

May 27, 2018

Got a few ideas for this list I’m wanting to make. I’ll wait until I’ve finished it before writing it all down. The idea of finalizing anything anymore scares me a little, if I’m being honest. I’m waiting for Kyungsoo to stop by now; he’s supposed to bring by samples of cover art for the book. I told him to pick whatever he feels is best, but he refused to not give me a say in the matter.

Kyungsoo, you really are so aggravating.

May 28, 2018

I sat and thought all last night while Chanyeol was sleeping. I was in my chair at my desk, just looking over at him. I was going to begin writing out my list but, as I pressed pen to paper I realized, there’s nothing more I want to do than spend every second I can with Chanyeol. I want to take him on extravagant dates to expensive places, swim in the ocean with him; I want to make love to him and tell him what he means to me every chance I get. I’m going to stow away this journal for some time, forget about it and my impending death. I’m going to do all the things I want to do and bring Chanyeol along with me. I just…I can’t stop thinking about dying if I continue to write this daily journal.

Goodbye for now.

September 9, 2018

Hello again, dear journal. I’ve pulled you from your hiding place amongst my many other notebooks in my trunk in the closet. I get a sense of comfort from holding you, like embracing an old friend after being away from them for so long. A lot has happened since we last met.

It’s September now and, as the last entry tells me, it’s been just over three months since I’ve last kept record of my days. I haven’t much time left now, but it’s okay; I’ve come to terms with this lack of time. My fate is accepted and, with this newfound acceptance, a wave of calm, contentedness has swept over me.

I visited my parent’s graves in early June. Chanyeol and I flew to Korea, the first time we’ve been back in years, and we stayed for an unexpectedly long time. We walked through the rose gardens of Gokseong, kissed in front of Gwanghallu Pavilion in Namwon, enjoyed breathtaking scenery at Pocheon Art Valley. It was a truly magical trip. We came home with two extra luggage bags because, of course, we couldn’t help but visit Apgujeong and spend ridiculous amounts of money. I think I now have an entirely new wardrobe. Chanyeol doesn’t know this, but I was sure to buy everything sizes too large, for him, so he can wear them when I no longer can.

It felt good, spending time with Chanyeol in the country we came from, seeing old friends we hadn’t seen in years, doing what we wanted, when we wanted, and not caring about anything other than mine and Chanyeol’s happiness. I think that’s why I’m now at peace with dying. I got to experience the best time of my life, with the person who means the most to me. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I’m not saying I’m ready to die, because I’d still rather not, but when it does come for me, I won’t fight it. I’ll go quietly, knowing that I lived my best life. As for Chanyeol, he’ll hurt, but he’ll recover. He’s a strong man. I know his heart will suffer, but I can also go knowing that he will move beyond the heartbreak and live on. He will be happy again; I know it.

As for the rest of our trip, we spent a week in Jeju Island in the most expensive, extravagant hotel I could find with a quick google search. We had massages, breakfasts in bed, late night movies. We swam in the ocean, built sand castles, and did some obscene things by firelight on our private section of the beach.

On our last night in Korea I’d asked Chanyeol, if you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? So, the next morning we boarded a plane to Austria. I didn’t ask him why he chose such a seemingly random country; the reason didn’t matter to me. Austria is a beautiful country with wonderful scenic views and dazzling mountainsides. For a month we trekked around the country. When we realized we weren’t quite done exploring we pulled up a picture of a map, scrolled some online reviews and, by the time the first of September had come, we’d seen Germany, France, Switzerland, and Italy. It was all too easy to get lost in foreign countries with Chanyeol, letting time slip through our fingers, unaware of its passing. It was wonderful.

Chanyeol. My dear, sweet, perfect Chanyeol. You’re the greatest love I’ve ever known, and ever will know. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of how thankful I am, how grateful I am to have you in my life. You’ve supported me, encouraged me, picked me up when I was down. You’ve wiped my tears, and taken care of me when I couldn’t myself. You’ve been my everything for twelve years and, though I wish I could say we have many more, that’s just not the case. I’m sorry, Chanyeol, for leaving you so soon; I know we had so many plans for our future. I know how desperately you wanted us to raise a child together; I wanted to as well. You would have made a terrific father. You will, one day.

Oh dear, I’m making myself cry now. I’ll end this entry here; I believe I’ve recapped enough of my absence.

September 10, 2018

Chanyeol’s nervous about going into work this morning, afraid his boss might fire him. He’d turned in a leave-of-absence request before we’d left on our trip, but still, he’s always been the worrying type. I told him that everything will be fine, but he never listens to me about these things.

I’ve had an uneasy anxiousness boiling just beneath my skin today. It’s been hours since it began and, no matter how much I try to calm myself, I can’t seem to relax. I’m unsure what it is that’s causing this unease, but I hope it’ll go soon. Twice today I’ve found myself having trouble breathing, suddenly, for no apparent reason. Just gasping for breath, near tears.

September 11, 2018

We’ve finally unpacked everything from our trip. There’s sand everywhere; it’s an absolute mess. I messaged Kyungsoo earlier in the morning, told him I wasn’t feeling well enough to meet. He seemed worried about me, asked if he should stop by, bring soup. I refused his offer, of course. Kyungsoo is a smart man, too smart. Intuitive as well. He’d see through me in an instant.

I’ve felt paranoid for a large chunk of the day. Not sure why. It’s so strange, I feel like my emotions are all out of whack. Like I could laugh one moment then suddenly burst into tears. I think I might be losing it. I probably just need to get more sleep.

September 12, 2018

I begged Chanyeol to stay home with me today. He asked me why and I didn’t know what to tell him, but I broke down, cried in his arms. I don’t remember much, but I remember just begging please over and over. I think something’s really, very wrong with me.

Chanyeol is at the store now. I didn’t want him to go, then I asked if I could go with him. I’m scared when he’s not around. Terrified of being alone with my thoughts. They’ve grown dark, I’m ashamed to admit.

Things are getting so dark inside.

September 13, 2018

Chanyeol, do you remember our wedding? Peach and gray fabrics. White chrysanthemums. It’s funny…no, perhaps that isn’t the correct term. It’s ironic, white chrysanthemums. I smiled at you as you pinned one to my lapel inside that small room we hid away in just before the ceremony. I’ll never forget what you said to me: I know these are your favorite flowers, but you do know they’re used as a funeral flower back home, right? I didn’t know that, when you told me. I just thought they were pretty and smelled nice.

Chrysanthemums are the birth flower of November. That’s your birth month, Yeollie, how fitting. I’ve been reading about these flowers for close to an hour now and I’ve learned quite a lot. They were originally cultivated in China.

Lay white chrysanthemums out at my funeral will you?

I’m stupid, of course you won’t have read this at that time. So, allow me to rephrase. I hope you laid white chrysanthemums out at my funeral.

September 14, 2018

I had trouble sleeping last night. My body was tired and my eyes heavy, but every time I began to drift off I would jolt awake with a gasp. I don’t know if I was falling into an unpleasant dream or what, but I’m so tired today. I told Kyungsoo I wouldn’t be in again; he’s beginning to suspect something is up, I presume. He was too nice to me on the phone, normally he’d go off on me for blowing him off. But today. Today was different. He’d only sighed and calmly told me to “take my time”. I’m not sure what he meant by that, but it instilled an unwelcome panic within me.

September 15, 2018

Dark thoughts again today. I’m worried.

September 16, 2016

Yeollie took my hand today, looked into my eyes. I could see the pain in his even as he smiled. He asked me if everything was alright. I know I’ve been different. It’s getting harder to hide within myself. I’m a piece of . I know. I know I am. I’m a liar and a terrible husband. I’m sorry. I hope you’ve forgiven me.

September 17, 2018

When I was seven I went to the grocery store with my mom. I remember being excited because the entrance doors were automatic and I’d finally just grown tall enough for them to register my height and open for me. My mother was shopping, casually going about the store plucking things from shelves and I, a curious child, wandered off from where she’d told me to keep my fingers laced with the metal cart. Something had caught my attention, I don’t remember what now, but it beckoned me to the end of the aisle. I’ll never forget the fear I felt when I turned back to my mother, but she wasn’t there. Being lost in a grocery store is the most terrifying thing that can happen to a child.

Knowing that your death is coming very soon is the most terrifying thing that can happen to an adult.

September 18, 2018

Kyungsoo came by today, I was lying in bed still wrapped in blankets. I believe I was staring at the ceiling when the door opened. He sat at my feet, placed a hand on my leg and just…sat with me. I cried, softly and silently. I don’t know what he thinks I’m going through, but I hope he knows how much I appreciated his gesture this morning. He’s been such a wonderful friend over the years. Just before he left he stopped at the door and told me to talk to Chanyeol.

September 19, 2018

It’s 1:30 in the afternoon. I’ve done nothing today but cry. When Kyungsoo told me to speak with Chanyeol I didn’t know that it would turn out quite the way it did. I caught him on his way out the door, asked him to sit with me on the couch. He had that look in his eyes again, the one that hurts me down to my soul. His face fell and tears lined his eyes and he asked me if I was unhappy. If I no longer loved him. For the first time in our marriage, I was the one who had to hold him, to give reassurance. I’ve never held him as tightly as I did this morning, never cried as hard. I apologized to him more times than I care to recall, told him I loved him until my throat hurt.

Chanyeol, I’ve never seen you fall apart. I’ve seen you cry, sure, but never like you did today. If circumstances were different, I’d call you crazy for even entertaining the idea that I would ever stop loving you, that you could ever cease to make me happy. But, I’m dying, Chanyeol. I’m dying and I don’t know how to do this. There’s no right way to die, but still, I’m sure I’m doing it wrong. I wanted to be myself, wanted to spend happy days with you until the end. But, I just don’t have it in me. Every day I wake up and just wish I wouldn’t have; I wish that death would have taken me in my sleep. While you’re at work I think of ways to kill myself, ways that won’t leave a mess, or completely destroy you. I told you my thoughts have become dark. So, so dark and there’s nothing I can do now. I’ve let it consume me. I just want this to be over with. I’m tired of waiting. I love you, Chanyeol, truly, but at this point not even that can brighten my mind.

September 20, 2018

I went to the office today after a long debate in front of the mirror. Kyungsoo seemed shocked but happy to see me out of bed. We talked for a long while, mostly about Chanyeol. I thanked him for the other day as well. I still haven’t told him. I don’t think I will. It’s only a couple weeks now, there’s no point in filling anyone in. He invited me to our friend’s birthday celebration tomorrow and I promised I’d go, only after he gave me a stern look. I feel it’s the least I can do, after all he’s done for me.

Chanyeol didn’t work today; he called in sick. Not that he’s actually sick, maybe just mentally drained. I get that. Sometimes your brain is just so overworked it needs a rest from work, and thinking in general. I spent a great deal of time just pacing in front of our bedroom door, too afraid to go in. I want to be sure he’s okay. I want to ask if he’d like anything to eat or drink. But, I’m worried the reason for all this is me. Maybe I’m the last thing he needs right now. Maybe I should stay far away from him.

September 21, 2018

I woke up in bed this morning confused. I remember purposely falling asleep on the couch so as not to disturb Chanyeol. But, I woke up in bed, Chanyeol’s long arms wrapped tightly around me. It was comforting. Emotional. Overwhelming. The amount of love and care he gives me, I could never return it to him. His heart is so big and full, always ready to burst and pour out love for those he cares for. I apologized to him in a hushed voice, let our lips connect as he wiped tears from my cheeks. Funny how I’ve never been one for poetry, but that moment was a rather poetic sight. The way our fingers laced as he made slow love to me in bed, our skin glowing in the morning sun, the soft whispered I love yous. What a magical moment we shared. The kiss you gave to my forehead reeked of finality, but your eyes told me forever.

Unluckily for us, forever is only two weeks.

September 22, 2018

Oh god, I’ve told him. Kyungsoo knows. I didn’t want him to; it was an accident really. I should have never drank at Jongdae’s birthday party. The alcohol didn’t sit well in my brain, turned the darkness terrifyingly pitch black. He’d found me on the floor in my office, hiding away from the rest of the uproarious office party. Absolutely hyperventilating, eyes puffy, face red and tear-stained. I was still sobbing violently with my head buried in my arms. I’ve never been held by Kyungsoo before, his arms are strong, supportive. He rubbed my back, just comforting little circles. Once I’d told him, he asked me to tell Chanyeol, begged me. I flat out refused. He only told me things I already know about myself, that I’m unfair, selfish. He begged and I pleaded back, I told him I only have two weeks, to just let me be. That seemed to stop him in his tracks. I could quite literally see his thoughts in his eyes. We stayed on the office floor for hours, just chatting. It feels good for someone other than me to know. He promised he’d respect my decision to not tell Chanyeol, but he said he doesn’t agree with it.

It’s come to my attention that Chanyeol is absolutely breath-taking. I find myself unable to resist him when he so much as smiles at me. Maybe it’s knowing I won’t be able to for much longer, but it’s only 2pm and we’ve had three times today, each time in a different room in the house. I think, maybe, I just long for the closeness from him, or the warmth of his body. I’m unsure, to be honest. But one thing I know for certain is that I haven’t been this sore since he and I were stupidly college kids.

If I could die while Chanyeol’s ing me on the kitchen counter like this morning…well, maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad after all.

September 23, 2018

We slept in today, had a lovely lazy Sunday. I mulled over the idea all morning, secretly; I believe Chanyeol thought I was asleep. What if I were to tell him? How would he react? Would he be angry with me? Would he cry? Would he leave? I think that’s my biggest fear of him finding out; he just up and leaves me. I know it’s illogical. He’d never do that. He’d stay with me until my very last breath. In the end, I decided once again that I wouldn’t speak the truth to him. Instead, I rolled over and tucked myself into him to let his fingers running rhythmically through my hair lull me to sleep.

September 24, 2018

Chanyeol asked me if I’d like to go see a doctor today. I told him I wasn’t sick and he gave me that look again, the one that hurts me.

Chanyeol left for work without a word to me. I was in bed, staring at the wall again. Thinking. I didn’t even know he left until I went searching for him but found an empty house. Funny, I was supposed to be keeping a secret so as not to push him away. Death is a hard truth to hide.

September 25, 2018

Heard him speaking to someone on the phone today; he thought I was asleep. He thinks I’m depressed, thinks medication will solve my problem. Oh Chanyeol, my sweet, sweet husband. You’re trying so hard while I’m just locked away in our bedroom giving up. You don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.

Perhaps I am depressed, but what good will medication do for me now?

September 26, 2018

I asked Chanyeol to take me out today. I don’t feel I have the right to ask anything of him, but I did anyway. He seemed unsure, but agreed. We went to a movie, some comedy. I don’t remember the plot. I remember holding Chanyeol’s hand, resting my head on his shoulder. I remember pushing death to the back of my mind, forgetting, if only briefly, that this may have been the last movie we’ll ever see together.

It shook me out of my stupor. After the movie I asked him to get food. He named a few restaurants and I said no to all of them. His confusion was cute and I’d put the pep back in my step. By some miracle. I jumped up to kiss him, told him I loved him more than he could ever know.

We grabbed burgers to-go from some diner by the theater, then walked to a nearby park to eat in the grass. I laughed for the first time in what felt like weeks. When the food was gone and we’d run out of conversation topics we laid together, looking up at the few stars that manage to shine bright in the Chicago sky. I told him I was sorry for the way I’ve been acting. He’d be angry at me for apologizing if he knew everything.

Today was a wonderful day. I hope tomorrow will be the same.

September 27, 2018

I’m feeling rather nostalgic today. Everything I look at reminds me of something. I keep having flashes of memory. I keep remembering things Chanyeol has said to me, things he’s done for me. I remember places we’ve gone. My trains of thought are all over the place, going in one direction or another but, funnily enough, they all lead back to Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo visited me for a few hours earlier in the day. He brought bulgogi from my favorite Korean restaurant, the one that tastes like back home. The way he watched me eat felt like a prisoner on death row eating his requested last meal. It was so delicious I didn’t even mind. He nervously brought up my book, how it’s unfinished, what I want him to do with it after I die. I told him to scrap the whole thing, I no longer care about it, even if it is the final in a three book series. When he said goodbye to me he cried, and I think that might have been more scary than dying. He’s never cried before, not in front of me at least. I never would have thought he cared for me as much as he does.

So, here’s my letter to you Kyungsoo:

You’ve been such a hard on me for so many years. You’ve been so blunt and abrasive, downright mean, to the untrained eye, when it came to critiquing my work. You’ve been the cause of many of my late night cry sessions. There have been times where I would have loved nothing more than to punch you square in the jaw. And still, you’re my best friend. I love that you were hard on me. I love that you would give me those early morning pep talks that to people outside the office sounded like you were berating me. I love you, just in general. You’ve kept me going, wouldn’t let me give up when I wanted to let writer’s block engulf me. You saw potential in me that no other editor ever has, and I’ll never be able to properly thank you for that. I wouldn’t know where or how to begin. So, I’ll simply say thank you. Take care of Chanyeol for me.

September 28, 2018

I don’t like putting life in terms of weeks; it makes it seem too short. But here we are. One week. Just seven more days and I’ll be gone. Erased from the world. Like I’d never been here to begin with. I don’t know if I’m numb, if this is just a moment of clarity or a calm before the storm. I’m scared still, yes, but I don’t feel the need to stay wrapped up in bed. Not right now at least. Not when Chanyeol doesn’t even know that he only has me for another week. My need to make him happy outweighs my want to mope. I can feel the instability though, somewhere inside. I know that at some point my mood will shift and I’ll recede into myself, back into the darkness. But, for now, I’ll enjoy this short-lived happiness.

September 29, 2018

My whole career I’ve written stories that I enjoyed. Stories that I knew would leave others feeling good once they finished. If this journal were to be published, I wonder the taste it would leave in people’s mouths. Probably bitter, with an even more bitter aftertaste. I’ve always written about heroic characters, brave, honest, the kind of people you can’t help but love, regardless of their many flaws. I have many flaws, multitudes of them. I’m not brave, far from honest. I’m a terrible protagonist. My setting is always the same, my home I never leave. There’s no character growth. No real plot. No resolution possible for my issue. For a famous author, I make a pretty ty book. I asked Chanyeol once: if our lives could be made into a book what genre would it be? I’m almost certain he said romantic comedy. I’m sorry, Yeollie, I know this journal is far from romantic or comedic.

September 30, 2018

I couldn’t sleep last night. Tossed and turned. Yeollie half woke up at one point and grabbed onto me, pulled me real close. I tucked myself into him, closed my eyes, and finally fell asleep. The dream I had was interesting, depressing, if I’m being honest. It was Chanyeol and I. Though we didn’t look older in the dream, I knew we were. A few years maybe, five or so. We were at a park, sitting on a bench chatting happily, wedding rings still on our fingers. A little girl from somewhere in the distance called out “Daddy! Daddy!”, and Chanyeol looked up right at her, and smiled brighter than I’ve ever seen. He stood and walked over to her, she needed help tying her shoe. Once he was finished they both stood still, just looking at me, waiting for me to come over. So I did, but before I could get to them I stopped. I couldn’t walk any further. I tried, god did I try. My legs wouldn’t carry me. I was panicked, crying, fighting so hard to get my feet to move. The little girl kept calling for me, Chanyeol watched in confusion. And I just cried; I wanted so badly to go to them.

Chanyeol asked what I dreamt about when I sat at the kitchen table this morning. He said it sounded like a scary dream. I told him it was nothing, just one of those dreams where someone is chasing you. Which wasn’t a lie, death is chasing me, after all.

October 1, 2018

Oh god, Kyungsoo I’m so sorry for today. I shouldn’t have done that to you. In my defense though, I told you I didn’t want any company. You should have listened.

I was an absolute mess when he got here. Chanyeol was at work and I spent most of the morning crying. I knew the happiness wouldn’t last long. Kyungsoo came in and I just threw myself at him and sobbed. He held me for an hour, remaining silent as I cried and blabbered on about how everything ing and is unfair. There really wasn’t much room for consoling in my situation. You can’t really tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m going to be ing dead in four days. Nothing okay about that.

October 2, 2018

Three days left now. I feel absolutely nothing anymore. The only time I feel anything apart from emptiness is when Chanyeol looks at me. He still has that same childlike wonder in his eyes, still looks at me like I’m the center of his ing universe. I bet he wouldn’t think so if he knew I was a selfish liar. He wouldn’t think so highly of me if he knew. I don’t even hide the crying from him anymore; he’s given up on asking me what’s wrong. It’s pathetic. My whole goal was to make this time happy for him and I couldn’t even do that.

I don’t want to do anything. Get out of bed. Eat. Nothing. I spent most of the day staring at a ing wall. At this point, I think I’d be better off dead. Guess it’s a good thing I will be soon.

October 3, 2018

How the am I going to die? If I don’t leave the house, what is supposed to happen to me? Jesus, what if someone storms into the house and just murders me? . I’m going to be slaughtered, aren’t I? I know it’s going to hurt. It’s going to be awful and terrifying and, I don’t want to go. On the bright side, the only bright side, Chanyeol won’t be here. So there’s no way he’ll get caught up in whatever happens to me.

It’s all I can think about now. What is going to happen to me? I’ve envisioned it a million times over in my head. Someone stabbing me. Someone putting me on my knees, making me beg for my life before they shoot me in the head. Maybe it’ll be slow, torturous and bloody. Something especially lovely for Chanyeol to come home to after a long day of work. I’m so ing scared. Yeollie, I’m so scared and I don’t know what to do.

October 4, 2018

We made plans today. Plans. I’m such a ing useless liar, a disgrace of a husband, a person. How dare I set something in stone knowing I won’t be there? The smile on his face lit up the room, then he kissed me. And I cried. What the is wrong with me?

I just want this to end. I’m so terrified of tomorrow I don’t even have proper words to express my fear anymore. I thought I’d be over this by now, thought I’d have accepted this inevitability, but I haven’t. Not in the slightest. It’s bull, is what it is. Why does a doctor get to tell me that I have to die? That I have to leave everyone behind? That I’ll never spend another moment in Chanyeol’s arms? I hope that doctor dies a tragically painful, slow death for what he’s done to me. I haven’t eaten, barely slept; my hands shake for reasons I can’t fathom. I know he’s noticed. How could he not? But I just keep lying to him, like the horrible person I am. I just hope he’ll forgive me, see things from my perspective once he finds and reads this journal. God, Yeollie, please forgive me.

I hope whatever kills me, however I die tomorrow, is quick. I don’t want to feel any pain, or fear. I don’t even want to know it’s happening. Maybe I’ll just do it myself.

Maybe.

Tomorrow.

October 5, 2018

I feel absolutely nothing. I haven’t moved since Chanyeol left for work. It took about an hour for me to come to this decision. So, now that I’m alone, and these are my final moments, I’ll take the time to do this properly.

Chanyeol,

I’m sorry. So, so incredibly sorry. I hope you’ll understand why I had to do this. I hope you’re not angry at me. I hope you don’t miss me, I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve your tears or sadness. But, this is so scary. I’m losing my ing mind, spending every day the past few months thinking about my own death. I love you, you know that. I love you so ing much. I know it’ll hurt. I know. And I can only say I’m sorry again. I’ve been thinking about this for so long and, up until yesterday, I never thought I’d really go through with it. But I just…if today is the day, I want things to end my way, you know? Does that make sense? I hope it doesn’t take you long to find this journal, I can’t stand the thought of you not knowing why this happened…hating me for it…blaming yourself. I know I was selfish, Yeollie, for not telling you, but I didn’t want you to treat me any differently. I didn’t want to be seen as nothing more than a dying person saying goodbye and counting down the days. Tell Kyungsoo I said bye and that I’m sorry I never finished the book. But, okay. This is it. Bye, Yeollie, I love you, please don’t stay mad for too long.

Forever yours,

Baekhyun Park.

The audience is applauding when Chanyeol steps down from the stage. The speech had gone well. Kyungsoo is waiting for him off to the side, a huge grin on his face.

“That was great,” he says, patting Chanyeol twice on the back. “I didn’t know you were so good in front of crowds.”

Chanyeol just shrugs, “The topic was important; I had to sound professional.”

“Well you did.”

“Thanks.”

They walk down the hallway, up and to the left, to the door leading to the back parking lot. They both climb into Kyungsoo’s car and, when he’s buckled in, Chanyeol lets out a sigh. Kyungsoo keeps quiet as he begins driving. They have a lunch date they can’t be late to.

Sehun stands when the two approach him at his table. He looks young, just at Baekhyun described him in his journal. When he extends his arm for a handshake he keeps his head down, weakly grasping Chanyeol, then Kyungsoo’s hand, before returning to his seat.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo says, smiling wide at the younger boy.

“You too,” Sehun mumbles.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asks, raising a brow. “You look like someone just told you bad news.”

At this, Sehun looks up, eyes wide. He looks at Chanyeol. “Are you okay?”

Chanyeol shrugs, “I’m fine. A little hungry,” he says as he grabs one of the menus from the table.

Sehun’s mouth opens; he looks confused. “But…but, Baekhyun?”

“Ah,” Kyungsoo says, “about that.” He sets his menu down and clears his throat. “I should apologize for our phone conversation. I was buried at work and had to cut things short and, regrettably, ended up leaving out important details.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Baekhyun isn’t dead,” Chanyeol says simply.

“What?” Sehun looks between Kyungsoo and Chanyeol.

The waiter comes and takes their order; Sehun stumbles through words, painfully confused. No one speaks until their drinks are brought to the table.

“You read the copy of his journal I sent you?” Chanyeol asks. He waits for Sehun to nod before continuing. “I know what it may seem like, but he didn’t die.”

“But how?” Sehun asks, “I thought he had the procedure—”

“The procedure,” Chanyeol says, raising both hands to do air quotes, “is bull.” Kyungsoo nods in agreeance.

“I…just start from the beginning.”

“Hello?”

“Hey Chanyeol, quick question. Have you spoken to Baekhyun since you left for work?”

“No. Why?”

“Chanyeol listen to me. Leave work now. Immediately. Go home and check on him.”

“What’s going on? Is he okay?”

“Chanyeol, just listen to me. Come to the house and check on him.”

“I…wait are you there right now? I’m getting my stuff together now to leave.”

“Yes, I’m at your front door but it’s locked and I’ve been knocking and Baek won’t answer. I know he’s here because I can hear his phone ringing when I call it. Just please hurry.”

“I’m getting in my car now. Soo, what the is going on?”

“Yeol, just—”

“No, ing tell me what the is going on.”

“I think he’s going to kill himself, if he hasn’t already.”

“That’s not funny, Soo.”

“I would never joke like that. I’m being serious, Yeol. He…he did the expiration date procedure and today is the day the clinic told him he’s supposed to die. Yeol, the whole company is a sham; I looked into them. All their numbers, the statistics they put out, it’s all fake. It’s a government run population control operation. The only people that die on the day this company told them they were going to is people who kill themselves out of fear.”

“I’ll be there in two minutes.”

“So, Baekhyun is…fine?”

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol share a look. It’s Chanyeol who speaks first.

“He’s alive, yes. We got to him in time. He’d swallowed a whole hell of a lot of pills and was passed out on the floor beside our bed.” Chanyeol smiles, a sad smile. “He’s alive, but I don’t know if I could say he’s completely fine.”

Kyungsoo puts his hand on Chanyeol’s back and rubs slow circles. He’s looking at Sehun who looks stunned. “Living with the information that he was going to die took a heavy toll on his mental health. When he came to in the hospital he wouldn’t stop crying. He wouldn’t believe anyone when they told him he wasn’t dying.” Kyungsoo clears his throat and leans forward, giving Chanyeol a quick side-eye. “He went through a few days where he thought he was dead and was in some sort of weird afterlife.”

“He’s been in therapy for about a month,” Chanyeol nods, smile a little more genuine now, “He’s doing better. He still wakes up some nights in tears, thinking he’s dying.”

“Chanyeol’s going after the company. We’ve put together a team of lawyers, aiming to get these places shut down. They’re government run, so it’ll be hell, but we’re not stopping until they’re exposed.”

Sehun is silent, staring at his hands. He looks seconds away from tears when he meets Chanyeol’s eyes. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry I called. God,” he looks down again, “the voicemail I left on Baekhyun’s phone was so stupid, I’m so sorry.”

Chanyeol does smile now, a wide grin that makes his eyes narrow. “You didn’t know, it’s totally okay. And, I’m sure if Baekhyun would have gotten to hear it, in better circumstances, he would have laughed.” Chanyeol reaches across the table and squeezes Sehun’s shoulder. “He talks about you from time to time, you know.”

“Really?” Sehun’s eyes are wide, shocked.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol nods, “He always wonders if you’re gonna call. I don’t know why, but you really left an impact on him.”

“We’re going to meet up with him at the office later, if you want to go with us,” Kyungsoo offers.

Sehun nods dumbly, “If that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Chanyeol says.

Baekhyun nearly screams when they walk in. He’d been busy at his laptop, editing the last chapter of his third and final book in his latest series, and didn’t hear the door open.

He jumps from his seat and runs across the large office, throwing himself into Sehun’s arms. “It’s so good to see you again!” He’s smiling, happy tears falling from his eyes. “I never thought I would!” He looks to Kyungsoo, “When did he call? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve been holding onto his phone for him,” Kyungsoo says to Sehun, “People keep calling wanting to ask intrusive questions.” He rolls his eyes and smiles at Baekhyun who’s squeezing the life out of Sehun still.

Chanyeol pulls Baekhyun to him and wraps his long arms around him. “He called yesterday night. We didn’t tell you because we thought you’d appreciate the surprise more.”

“Thank you,” Baekhyun says softly, kissing the side of Chanyeol’s head. He pulls out of Chanyeol’s hold and goes back to his desk, swiping his coat from where it hangs on the chair and shoves his arms in. “Well, what are we waiting for?” he says, smiling at everyone in the room, “let’s give Sehun his tour of Chicago!”

Chanyeol stays put for a moment watching Sehun be dragged out of the room by an over-excited Baekhyun blabbing on about all the cool things he’s going to show him. He smiles, small and sweet, eyes lovingly fixed on the back of his husband’s head.

“You don’t have to keep looking at him like that, you know?” Kyungsoo says from beside him. “Like he’s going to disappear.”

“I know,” Chanyeol says, giving Kyungsoo a quick look before returning his gaze to Baekhyun. “I can’t help it though.”

“He’s not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Chanyeol repeats.

Kyungsoo squeezes Chanyeol’s shoulder and nods his head to the side, motioning for them to get going. Chanyeol sighs, watching his husband walk down the hall. He smiles when Baekhyun bumps Sehun’s hip with his. He knows he doesn’t need to worry, that he doesn’t need to constantly fear losing Baekhyun, but it’s hard. He almost did lose him, came much too close to life without Baekhyun being his reality. He’ll never forgive that company for what they did to Baekhyun; he won’t stop until every last expiration date clinic is shut down.

When he catches up, he takes Baekhyun’s hand in his own and laces their fingers together. He kisses the top of Baekhyun’s head and relaxes to the sound of his laughter.

November 27, 2018

You know how much I love writing epilogues, nearly all of my books have one.

Happy birthday Yeollie. I can’t believe I get to say this. I didn’t think I’d be here for it. You’re sick of hearing me apologize, so I promise not to do that. Instead, I’m going to thank you. I know I haven’t been the easiest to live with the past couple months. I spent a lot of time wallowing in my own misery. I lied to you over and over. Jesus, you had to come home and see me half-dead on the floor. Thank you for sticking with me through all of that. Thank you for caring, for trying to make me go see a doctor, for dealing with me being absolutely miserable. Thank you for sitting at my bedside and holding my hand when I was out of my mind. I’m getting better now, slowly, but surely. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I know you’ll be by my side the whole way through and that means so much to me. I’m glad you asked Kyungsoo to publish this journal. I think it’ll help shed some light on the clinics, maybe even help your case against them some. If nothing else, perhaps it’ll just be an interesting read for my fans.

Now, to Kyungsoo. You have no idea how grateful I am to you for breaking your promise and telling Chanyeol what was happening back in October. I wouldn’t be here writing this now without you. You really are my best friend and I love you so much. Thank you, Kyungsoo, for saving my life.

This journal has been a strange experience from the start. Reading through it is hard and painful at times. I still haven’t finished a full readthrough. One day, maybe in the future, when I’ve stopped waking up in the middle of the night panicked and fearful, I’ll get to sit down and read my entire journey. It’s strange to see this story end, and in a much different way than I had expected. Strange, but not unwelcome.

On October 5, 2018 I tried to kill myself. Never have I been more happy to see myself fail.