I had the sickest feeling in my stomach as I rode the subway home later that day. I stared outside the window and watched as the underground concreted tunnels swooshed past me.

"No looking back after this, you'll regret it for as long as you live."

Jongin's brother's foreboding rang in my ears as I played with my phone, my hands sweaty. Minhyuk gave me Jongin's phone number, but the warning he left me seemed more important at the moment. I didn't know what to expect. At this point, I was thinking the worst.

The sun was high in the sky when I arrived back at my apartment. I watched from my bedroom, sipping on cold coffee as people below me maneuvered through concrete jungles and crazy taxi drivers.

I needed closure.

I twirled my phone in my hand, glancing at the lit up screen every now and then.

Kim Jongin

His new cell phone number was now in my phone and my thumb was grazing over his contact periodically, my lip was starting to bleed from biting it so much.

What was I waiting for?

I nodded to myself and with my hand slightly shaking from the nervous dread, I pressed on Jongin's contact and held the phone to my ear. I listened, half hoping that he wouldn't pick up.

What would I do if he didn't remember who I was?

The apprehension I felt from listening to the perpetual beeps while waiting for Jongin to pick up was unbearable. I could practically hear my heart beating in my eardrums. What would I even say?

"Hello?"

The beeps stopped and was replaced with a man's voice.

An all too familiar voice. The voice I grew to love. It was him, I was sure of it. I knew it.

"Hello?" I replied.

It was silent on the other line.

"Who is this." Jongin inquired. However, his voice didn't raise at the end of the sentence. He sounded as if he was demanding an answer.

"It-"

"Who is this," Jongin cut me off. I didn't say anything. I could hear Jongin's breaths heavy. About five seconds later, he spoke up. "I know who this is," Jongin said. His voice was hoarse and uneven.

"I know who this is," he repeated.

"Who?" I whispered. My grip tightened around the phone.

"Hana," Jongin drawled. He didn't say anything else and I could practically feel his anxiety on the other end.

A smile was tugging on the edge of my lips. Jongin. He knew. He remembered. 

"Yes," I replied, "It's me." Hearing his voice say my name was like returning home. Returning to something you love, someone you love. The way Jongin said my name was different than the way anyone else said my name. It sounded so right.  He was so right. We were so right.

"I don't know what to say," Jongin replied slowly. His voice was soft and breaking, but he spoke with a purpose. "Can I see you?"

"Of course."

---

I woke up with a smile on my face- the first thing coming to my mind being Jongin.

Today was the day I was to see him at a cafe next to the University for brunch. I remembered that the last time I saw Jongin, I was in my pajama shorts and tank top, rushing out of my house with tears running down my cheeks at the news that he was leaving without a word.

I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering if I should do my makeup differently or put my hair up or try wearing a skirt or a dress. But then I realized that I wanted Jongin to see how I looked normally.

I smiled at the thought of Jongin pacing down his closet, wondering what to wear. I recited in my head what I would say to him and made a mental list of everything I had to update him on. His aunt, my mom, Baekhyun (although he probably wouldn't care), Seoul University, and meeting his brother.

The cafe was only a ten minute walk from my house so I spared the bus money and went on a nice walk. Like the day before, there were barely any clouds and the sky was a radiant blue color, a nice change from the smoggy gray sky due to all the cars and pollution in Seoul.

The cafe was a rather popular one to both college students and local residents. It was large and teeming with young adults during brunch time. I moved my way through everyone and glanced up at the clock. It was exactly 1:30.

I felt a hand slither into mine.

"Hey."

My hands started to sweat and I felt as if time had been stopped, the air in my lungs ceasing to transport; my heart beat palpitating loudly in my eardrums as I turned around, my voice catching in my throat, my head going blank as the long list of words I wanted to say that I had composed the night before before suddenly disappeared, my knees going weak below me although I knew that if I fell he would catch me; tears threatening to fall from my eyes as a smile adorned my face and a feeling of home warmed my stone-cold heart.

"Hey," I whispered. My voice cracked. I was pretty certain he hadn't even heard me over the chattering inside the cafe. But all that mattered was the fact that he was right here with me.

I didn't say another word. For some reason, I thought that I would have paragraphs to say when I would finally be face to face with Jongin but that wasn't the case. I was speechless. I was dumbfounded and mute as we stood in the middle of the busy cafe in our own little world- just like we always had so many years ago.

I felt a bittersweet longing to go back to our place that was only separated from us by time.

The feeling of ecstacy, exuberance, euphoria. Only he could make me feel this way. Seeing Jongin holding my hand right in front of me was what I was yearning for and holding on to for the last couple of years. Trying to describe the amount of relief and joy I felt would be like trying to describe the color 'red' to the blind, or describing the sound of a violin to the deaf.

My eyes remembered every single crease and dimple of his. He was dashing.

Jongin was dashing.

Absolutely perfect in every sense, and in every way.

I felt overwhelmed when he stared at me. Even if his height and his voice changed over the years, his tempered, spirited eyes were unfazing as they stared into mine, peering over the differences that had molded my face over the past years we were apart. I let my eyes take Jongin in. His hand was still resting in mine and I wanted to be sure that this was him and that he was here.

A smile adorned Jongin's face and he started to chuckle.

"You haven't changed a bit, darlin'," he winked at me.

His statement acted as an icebreaker and I practically leapt into his arms, squeezing him as tight as I could and inhaling his distinct smell. I heard him laughing before he wrapped his arms around my waist and held on.

I kissed his cheek and he pulled back.

"Come on, let's sit."

"Okay," I responded. I couldn't help but grin.

It still hadn't registered that he was with me right now, right here. We sat at a table in the back of the cafe, the sun shining down on us as we sat facing each other.

"I don't know where to start," I declared, slapping my hands on the table.

"Start from the beginning," he commented, "Tell me how you got here." Jongin sat across from me, staring into my eyes as he leaned back into his chair. He grinned, playing with his straw.

"I'm going to Seoul University."

"I know, pretty," he beamed at me with a gorgeous smile that lit up his eyes.

"How?"

"A lttle birdie told me."

"Did the birdie also tell you how much I wanted to die when you left? We didn't even fix our relationship after what happened," I stated.

Jongin stared down at his lap and shook his head slightly.

"I was stupid. I didn't think. I was impulsive. I mean, I still am," Jongin chuckled and stared at me, "Being impulsive takes you to many places you don't want to go." The light hit his face and illuminated his already-perfect features. He looked like a god.

"You're beautiful, Hana."

I could tell that he was trying to switch the subject but I let it go. I didn't want to talk about the past, I just wanted to look towards the future. Hopefully, our future.

"How have you been?" I asked.

"A lot has changed," Jongin stated. He looked up at me, not directly answering my question.

"It doesn't seem like it,"I replied with a smile, "I really hope a lot hasn't changed."

"A lot has."

"Oh."

"I don't want to focus on that. Just catch me up on your life, will you, pretty?"

"Of course."

I was bubbling with excitement. I told him about school, everyone in Busan. I left out the part about going to his house. I had a feeling that it would rub him the wrong way.

Jongin didn't say one word complete word the whole time.

Everytime I paused to look up at him, he would reply with a "Yeah." or "Wow." or "That's great." Something along those lines. He was watching me talk with a smile on his face, but he looked distracted. Every now and then he would rub his hands together or let out a sigh.

Something wasn't right, I knew it.

I had an intuition that there was too much I didn't know.

"Jongin."

"Yeah?" I was done talking to realize that Jongin's eyes were glistening with tears. Not even ten minutes had gone by.

He shook his head, "Damn." He groaned softly, voice cracking.

"What?" I replied, confused. I was taken aback by his tears. Jongin was trying to smile but his eyes were now bloodshot. He finally let go of his composure, letting his tears stream down his face. His hands went up automatically to cover his face.

"Come on, I need to take you somewhere."

I didn't say a word as I watched Jongin storm out the door. I followed him cautiously as he led me to his car. We sat in silence as he drove, the lulling of the road underneath us the only sound in the car. Jongin wasn't okay.

Every now and then, one of his hands let go of his death grip on the steering wheel to wipe his tears away from his eyes.

Every now and then he let out a sniffle.

Every now and then his lips trembled.

"Jongin."

"Hana, we shouldn't have done this today," he said abruptly.

"Today? Or ever?" I asked, fearing the reply.

Both of our eyes didn't leave the road ahead of us. We didn't dare look at each other. It hurt to look at him. He would glance over at me every now and then for a short second to let out a whimper.

"Ever," he whispered.

I felt a burn in my eyes. My heart crashed down violently into to the pits my stomach.

Who was I kidding?

I saw this coming.

"Then why did you come?" I asked, quivering. We were at the end of the road. Everything was an illusion. When he answered his phone and knew who he was talking to ; when he let me kiss his cheek; when he sat down and listened to me with a small smile ; I knew that it all was too good to be true.

"You know why."

"I don't, Jongin."

We were pulling into the parking lot of a shiny apartment complex. Jongin and I were done exchanging words. He turned off the engine and we got out of the car simutaneously, both wiping our tears and making ourselves look presentable.

We were just hurting ourselves.

I followed behind Jongin who got into the elevator. We stood in silence, like the calm after the storm.

Or before.

"I'm showing you my house."

"Why?"

"There's something I want to show you."

Something?

I was hoping that this something was not a someone.

But I knew that it was.

The elevator dinged open and we got off the lift. Jongin reached into his pocket to reach for his keys when I placed my hand on his arm to stop him.

"I don't want to see."

"You have to see," he demanded.

"Jongin. Stop."

"Why?" Now he was the one asking questions.

"Because I have a feeling that you're going to introduce me to someone I don't want to meet," I replied. We were standing in front of his door, facing each other. Jongin's lips were taut and his eyes were sad, still glistening from his episode earlier.

Jongin paused. His hand reached for mine. "You have to meet her."

I drew my hand back, staring at him definantly. "I get it, okay? You're with someone now. I understand. I'll get over it. I'll leave you alone."

"That's not what I want."

"Then please, enlighten me."

"Your opinion on her will matter to me more than anyone else's."

"You can't do this to me, Jongin," my words were choking my throat. The day had started so brillantly. Now we were at the same place as we started.

He was right, so much had changed.

Yet, so little. As much as I wanted to stop this disaster from happening, it was already too late.

"I can't do this? You can't ing show up out of nowhere and talk to me as if there was nothing between us!" Jongin slammed his hand against the wall, his face threateningly close to mine.

"I wouldn't have called you if I knew. How was I supposed to know that you were with someone else? You haven't talked to me in ages," I cried. I was done acting as if I was okay with Jongin being with another girl.

As much as I knew that this was all there was for us, I still didn't want to believe it.

"How was I supposed to after you almost died because of me? Are you stupid? I could barely look at myself after that happened- do you think I would be able to see you every day without remembering?"

"Is that the reason you left without telling me?" I shook my head. It couldn't be. "You left because you felt guilty about me passing out for like two hours and my dad's old boat burning? It wasn't a big deal, Jongin."

Jongin let out a despairing lament through his tears, his hands reaching up to carress my cheeks. "I couldn't live with myself."

"It wasn't even your fault," I mumbled. Everything clicked. Why he refused to see me, why he left without a word. He felt guilty. 

He had known too little love to realize that it wasn't his doing.

"Then why'd you act like everything was fine earlier?" I could barely speak. This wasn't supposed to happen to us. We were supposed to prove everyone wrong. We were supposed to be together forever.

"Because I wanted everything to be fine again. I don't want this to happen to us. Dammit, I don't want to hurt my wife but I needed to see you again and listen to you talk and just be with you," he breathed heavily. Jongin stared at me, distraught and guilty.

"Do you love her?" I whispered.

The warmth of his hand left and I knew.

He did.

"My wife? I thought I did."

"What makes you unsure?"

"She's just a mirror image of you."

We silently stared at each other again.

If this was closure, I didn't want it anymore.

"You waited for me... didn't you?" Jongin stated, wistfully.

I nodded.

"You need this closure as much as I do," Jongin mumbled. His eyebrows furrowed. He was desperately trying to stop crying. "I told you... Impulsion took me so many places I didn't want to go. I still need you more than anything."

A man's first love follows him to the grave.

The door to Jongin's home opened and Jongin and I practically jumped. I looked to see a young girl standing with a baby in her hands.

The odds were against us.

The world was against us again.

All our relationship consisted of was bad timing and regret.

"Are you okay?" She asked softly, surprisedly peering over at Jongin and then looking at me with a nervous glance.

I watched the girl as she eyed Jongin curiously. However, Jongin didn't take his eyes off of me as he replied, "We're fine."

"Hana. This is my wife," Jongin's gaze bore holes into my head.

"Nice to meet you," I replied. I didn't want to look at her face. I forced a smile. She smiled back at me and extended a handshake. 

This is what Jongin wanted. I couldn't turn back time for him like he wanted to.

But if this is what he really wanted, I could do it.

Barely.

I accepted her handshake.

- - - - -

"What we had was everything that's good in life. I won't ever forget you. I won't forget us. You know that, pretty."

Jongin's voice echoed in my ear.

"We'll be together someday."

He said goodbye for the first and last time. I never wanted him to say goodbye because saying goodbye meant leaving. Leaving meant forgetting. I cried when his words hit me, but I was left broken when I realized that I could never be his again.

His touch left a Jongin-shaped void in my heart. Some might come close to filling it up but no one could make me feel exactly like he did. The one thing that I wanted dearly was the only thing that I couldn't have.

But he was right.

What we had was everything good in life. We had the thrill of young love, the joy of looking forward to every new day spent with each other and the eventual inevitable heart break of leaving each other behind. We had something special. We realized that no matter what happened, we kept turning back to each other.

We cried together.

We laughed together.

We battled through mistakes and hard times hand in hand.

We grew in love and we grew in life.

We wanted the best for each other.

But nothing gold can stay.

Someday we will forget the contentment of each others' touch and the sound of each others' voices, but we will never forget each other.

We let each other go because that was the best we could do.

We encountered the kind of innocent fondness and emotion that many people died without having the privilege of experiencing. I would always be thirsty for more of him but I needed to be thankful for every beautiful part of him I got to see.

Our love was real.

And with a smile I realized.

That was enough.