Two in one day? what is this madness? But I wasn't fully satisfied with my last chapter, and I couldn't leave them in angst too long, so here comes this little ditty.

We didn’t go out in a blaze of glory. Things didn’t end with a bang, just my pathetic silence. (I wasn’t quite sure if things had really ended at all.) But you didn’t call the next day. Or the next. I called, but your phone was off that weekend. Still, I sat there and called, clinging to the brief moments I was able to hear your voice. (Sorry I missed  you! I’ll call you back soon.) My apartment became a jail cell. Every inch reminded me of you, where it once filled my chest with warmth now left me with a biting cold.

This is unhealthy, my friends would insist. You can’t hide forever. (Yes I could. I had a thousand places where I know only you would find me.) Quieting their concerns we went out for drinks every night that week. It was almost if you had only been a piece of one long dream. I drank ty beer instead of wine, held short awkward conversation with whatever boy was brave enough to work their way through my fog of disinterest. Each person would be compared to you, (they couldn’t hold a candle) and each night I returned home alone.

I had to see you, even if only for only a fleeting moment. The bar was busy, people huddled in the glow of the entrance, filling their lungs with a fix of nicotine before returning to the warmth they found inside. I lit one of my own, huddling along with the rest. My seat was taken, filled by a nameless face who had no idea what he had. Would your heart be the same? My place filled by another? One who would realize how special you were. (or would you find another fool like me?)

 I could barely make you out through the constant fluctuation of people in and out, but once my eyes found you everything else fell away. You cut your hair, your once elegant pompadour was now short and messy. (You were still beautiful. That would never change.) You still had your smile, but it had faded, tarnished.

My heart broke all over again at the sight of you. (I knew it would.) You were so close, but infinitely out of reach. But I couldn’t help grasping at straws. I didn’t want to learn how to deal with life without you. It was beyond simple want or need. You were half of my whole, I was rendered incomplete without you by my side. 

My night was filled with tossing and turning at the thought of you, and the morning hit me with the weight of the world on my chest. Sunlight seemed absent when I finally willed myself out of bed. It was already well into the afternoon, but Seoul still seemed at rest. I managed to make my way to the window, drawing the blinds. The dark clouds that loomed over the city mirrored the feeling in my chest. They were heavy, ready to release their downpour.

It rained. It rained and rained, and it felt as though it was trying to wash the city away. You hated the rain. Just as with the sun their arrival always left you dimmed, and with the weather like this I was worried you’d be snuffed our completely. When the distant call of thunder rolled through the house it was if I had finally awoken. I knew where I was supposed to be.

6th floor. 5 doors down and to the right. It was a walk I had made enough to become muscle memory, but I felt as though I was walking a strange new path. (Maybe I was.) I stood outside your door so long I was worried what your neighbors would say. I placed my key in the lock, knowing you wouldn’t answer, and slowly opened the door.

It was messier than usual, (for you anyway. The place was still immaculate.) An empty wine glass sit forgotten on the white coffee table, several books I had forgotten long ago stacked next to it. (You were never much of a reader.) But the house lay silent, if I didn’t know better I would have turned around, assuming you were gone. Instead I removed my shoes and carefully stepped to your door.

Tangled in red sheets, your head and shoulders barely peered through, your chest moving in a slightly quickened pace, matching the heavy beating of rain on your window pane. How I wanted nothing more than to lay down beside you, and hold you in my arms like before; staving off the rain and basking in your warmth. I spoke softly, calling your name, but you didn’t move. If it wasn’t for the tensing in your shoulders as I spoke I wouldn’t have thought you were awake at all. But you didn’t yell or chase me out, so I continued.

I walked to your bedside, and crouched there; eye level with you jutting shoulder blades. I spoke in barely a whisper, as if spoken too loud they would break the frail peace between us. But once my words began they did not cease, they down poured.

“It was love.

It was love that let you linger in my thoughts.

It was love that attached me to your hip.

It was love that left me short of breath and red in cheek.

That left me nervous. That left me overwhelmed with happiness.

It was love that grew these insecurities.

It was love that left me jealous.

That kept me up at night. That kept me tongue tied.

It was love that left me scared.

It is love that leaves me less than whole. 

And it’s I that needs you by my side.”

I paused. Somewhere along the line I forgot how to breathe.

“I left you in silence too long, and I can never right that wrong. I can only hope you’ll let me make it up to you every day and every night until our world fades to black, you becoming the sun and I the moon so as i can eternally follow.”

I stayed there for a moment, waiting, hoping to receive anything but silence. You stayed still, as if a moment frozen in time. I took to my feet, defeated.

“I’m sorry.”

I sat on that couch until what little light remained faded from the sky, thunder rumbling farther in the distance. What could I have said to make you change you mind? To even hear your voice once again. To have you even acknowledge my existence. (Not that I deserved it.) But even if I received nothing in return, I still conveyed my feeling to you. Our last moments were you knowing how truly loved you were.

Heavy rapping came at my door disrupting my thoughts, as if the storm had moved from window pane to door frame. I lazily stood, making my way to the foyer, in no particular hurry to see what I would be faced with. (One of the boys, I was sure.) The rapping came again, quickened. Cautiously I opened the door, and there you were.