Don't forget to stream today too, bestieeee <333 This is not the happy ending I promised yet, it's on the next chapter and I'm putting it up right after this one!

I miss you so much

1 year, 365 days

I’d lie and tell you I didn’t count but I did. I’m sorry. I’m bad at moving on, never learned how to. Never really wanted to. Not for you, that’s for sure. I had the tiniest hope you’d be here and I’m sorry I did.

When I saw you, it hurts again. But it’s a pain I long for. Different from the dull neverending pain that happens when you’re not there. This is a stinging pain of finally... finally seeing you again.

“Time cures all wounds”? That’s a lie

I prove it. 365 days (I’m sorry I counted) healed nothing. I didn’t even pick on the scar’s scabs and it’s still as open as you left it.

Summer happened first, it was really hot that time and I get angry too easily. That day I went to the beach with my friends, they told me the wind would make me feel better. A bunch of liars, I ended up crying along with the sound of waves. I hate you, the sadness grows into anger just so I can breathe above the tears that are almost drowning me. I hate you so much that summer.

Fall felt dry and cracking, the leaves falling down remind me of myself too much. If I was a tree, perhaps I’m in a neverending fall. Little by little parts of me are shedding down. these trees are promised a new life when spring comes but would spring ever come to me? Would you ever come to me? I’m not as angry during fall, it’s too quiet for me to scream even in my own head.

Winter was too cold, my fingers hurt. You used to hold my hand and scold me for not wearing gloves. I’d feel warm whenever you talk to me, winter was never much of a problem, you see... My fingers hurt so much this time until it turns numb, perhaps a bit too numb that I arrogantly thought to myself;

“Maybe I can forget you and move on.”

But even the snow falling down reminds me of you too—so no, seems like I actually can’t forget you and move on.

Spring comes with so many promises of better days. Everyone is hopeful, perhaps I should be too. But the hope that buds and grow is not one of forgetting you, but rather seeing you again. I’m such a fool. But I wonder if a miracle could happen and I can finally get a bouquet from that new flower shop and give it to you. Maybe see you smile at me again, just a small smile is okay. Hell, even a fake one. Because time does not heal, not this.

I miss you so much it’s insane. So forgive me if I come to this gallery, I knew you’ve always admired this painter and... I had to. You might not even be here today, but I’ll visit this gallery every day until you do. God knows I pray for you to be there more than anything I’ve ever prayed for in my life.

And you’re here on the first day I visit.

You’re here.

If only you can see me, standing like a statue, meters away from you—speechless and out of my mind. People went past me, confused at my stance and my motionless body. My eyes are fixated, finally not at the door you closed against me but at your face. The smile you have plastered as you stare at the paintings which I still couldn’t understand much gave me that stinging pain on my chest.

How long has it been?

You walked away and I wanted to cry so I left the building. I went home and felt miserable but then I thought to myself, ‘hey... it’s spring’. Spring really came for me and I stubbornly came back to the gallery. Sometimes you need a second look at paintings, I know you do. So I pray again and again.

I see you three times at the gallery in a span of one week. You finally saw me at the third.

I almost fell on my knees when you laid your eyes on me. I wanted to turn into one of your paintings, a smeared color all in precise detail and mind. I won’t be able to hold you, won’t be able to call your name, but at least you’d smile at me like you smile at these paintings. And you’ll call me yours. Yours.

When you turned your heels to walk towards me, I wanted to run to you. Take the first step, the first word, because I don’t know what you’re going to do. What if you kicked me out? Pushed me back? Tell me to leave? I want to talk to you first. I don’t know what to say either but I think I have to. Maybe just call your name. Have the syllables roll off my tongue again.

God, how long has it been? I know how long, I’ve been counting. The calendar has my tear stain, and it stops at 365 days. 1 year. Four seasons, 365 days, a hundred mixed feelings, all for one man.

You’re closer. Close enough. My voice can reach, it can reach you now.

”Mino,” I called. It feels so familiar, your name.

You stopped when we’re close enough. I can smell your cologne, you always smell so nice. In 365 days, you haven’t changed your fragrance yet.

“Seungyoon,”

It’s a pretty tune, my name from your lips. I forget how much I could love my name when it’s you who called me. I counted, it’s 365 days and I am still mad over you. I was silent, and you too. Both of us didn’t know what to say. I should have at least prepared something, didn’t I?

“It’s been a while.” You said.

“1 year.” I counted.

“Yeah. 1 year.” your lips let the words out in gentle air.

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Good. And you?”

The calendar has my tear stains. “Good.”

We were out of words. Uncommon for us. We always have things to talk about, back then.

“Would you... join me for a drink?” you asked.

If the end of my life means I can be in your arms I think I could die, here and now. If you told me you’d come back, that one sentence would be enough to make me wait for years and years.

I smiled. Finally, one that bloomed out of my chest like a spring flower once more. We walked to the pub just down the street, the little distance between us seems unreal to me still. I had to fight the urge to reach out to your hand—just to make sure it’s you and not my mind playing games on me out of pity. But I think it’s you. Really you.

365 days led me to this tall seat, leaning to the wooden bar table as you look hesitantly between my eyes and the ice in your glass. 365 days took me here, back to your side.