stargazer said
It just occurred to me that we don’t really know each other’s actual name yet.

winter-daze said
Does it matter?

stargazer said
In a way. I usually hear that once you know a stranger’s name, you would have a connection with him.

winter-daze said
Are you implying that you want to have a connection with me?

stargazer said
Honestly? Yes.

winter-daze is writing…

winter-daze said
You can call me Woohyun.

stargazer said
I’m Sunggyu.

winter-daze said
It’s pretty late. I should go.

stargazer said
Good night, Woohyun.

winter-daze said
Good night, Sunggyu.

winter-daze is offline.

Last message received at 02:15 on 2012/03/16

<:>

   I took the late train home one spring evening, and there were several people sitting in front of me: a younger girl tinkering with her phone, a businessman reading the newspaper and a woman wearing a pink hoodie with matching jogging pants. A duffel bag was beside her. I tried to look at them like the way Woohyun did.

   A story to tell, secrets to keep and scars to hide.

   I began to wonder, then, how they were before they boarded the train. Were they happier? Sadder? I couldn’t be too sure. I attempted to pick up certain things from them through their clothing, no matter how useless it may seem. I would like to believe that the littlest details are just as important as the bigger ones—if not more.

   That was the time when this thought struck me: I liked to gaze at the stars. Woohyun liked to gaze at people.

   His thoughts boggled me. For me, Woohyun was someone who took great interest in unnoticeable things, and it made me see in a different light. Through his words I soon realized that he was someone who would reflect on his thoughts. He would expand it, retract it and hold it close to him. That may have been the reason why his words seemed so alive and relatable. Woohyun spoke from the heart. And I guess, his thoughts were his excuse for not participating.

   Woohyun and I would talk on a daily basis. Our conversations would revolve around mundane things, and I didn’t mind it at all. It still was interesting—at least for me, anyway. Soon enough, the platform where we’d exchange instant messages vanished in front of my eyes. Whenever I would log in, the pixelated characters and the glare of my computer screen—together with the clacking of my keyboard—dissolved into nothingness. I would imagine the both of us standing in the middle of a vast, white space, and that field would transform into something else once we talk about specific things.

   He was a shadow. He was just a dark figure emanating a mysterious glow. And yet, I treated him like an old friend.

   “Why ‘stargazer’?” Woohyun asked one night.

   I looked at him. Rather, his figure of him, before answering, “I like to gaze at stars.”

   “Why?”

   “Because the stones we have down here don’t shine.”

   “How amusing,” he replied. I could’ve sworn him chuckle.

   A pause, and I asked, “Why ‘winter daze’?”

   “It’s a typographical error,” he answered immediately.

   “Care to elaborate?”

   “It’s supposed to be ‘winter days’, but I ended up typing ‘daze’, instead.”

   “It suits you, though.”

   “You’re not the first one to say that,” he replied. “It’s a bit funny.”

   “How so?”

   “You’ll know soon enough.”

   “You’re very vague,” I remarked.

   “I find this trait of mine amusing and annoying at the same time,” he admitted.

   “Hey, Woohyun.”

   “Hm?”

   I hesitated, but asked anyway, “What scares you the most?”

   “What scares me the most?” he repeated.

   “Yes.”

   There was a pause, and after giving it some thought, he finally replied, “I guess, for now, it’s knowing that the relationship I have with people I care about the most is very fragile.”

   “Fragile,” I repeated.

   “Do you want me to elaborate?”

   “Please do.”

   “The only connection I have with them is through the Internet. Once they deactivate their blogs, or not read the e-mails I send them, then I suppose it will scare me.”

   “I see.”

   “What about you, Sunggyu? Do you have any fears?”

   “I actually do, but it isn’t as deep as yours.”

   “I would be honored to know it all the same.”

   “Ha! You really are silver-tongued, Woohyun.”

   “I wonder.”

   I sighed, and visualized myself looking at him. “I’m afraid to divorce my future wife.”

   “You certainly look ahead,” he remarked.

   “Nevertheless, that’s my fear.”

   “I see.”

   And just like that, the white space vanished, together with his imaginary voice. Everything from that world blurred out from my sight until all I could see was my computer screen, displaying the conversation I just had with him. Maybe we were both taking our time to understand one another, considering neither of us asked the exact reasons behind our answers.

   Last message received at 02:15 on 2012/03/25

<:>

   I was in my father’s garage one afternoon, wearing a black wife beater and a pair of gray jogging pants that was already worn out. I was covered in sweat and my hands were already black with grease. He called me because he needed help to change his car’s battery, along with tuning the exterior up a bit.

   Spending my time with my father wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, he was great at offering silence, and I needed that every once in a while, considering my mother seemed to always nag at me. We barely talked, and the song coming from the radio was the only sound we could hear.

   “How are your studies coming along?” he asked.

   I glanced at him, and answered, “It’s all right.”

   “Don’t give your mother a difficult time.”

   “Of course,” I replied naturally. “It’s nice to know you still care about each other, though.”

   He chuckled. “I feel that I should tell this to you, son.”

   “What is it?”

   “Once you get married, and you have a fight with your wife, will you do me a favor?”

   I paused to look at him. He smiled a little, and approached the radio to turn it off. He sighed, faced me, and held his index and middle finger up.

“First,” he began. “Don’t provoke your wife into filing a divorce. Second: don’t let the sun go down while you’re still angry at her.”

   I waited for him to add more, but he didn’t. He turned the radio on again, and carried on with his task.

   “Dad?”

   “Yes?”

   “Why did you…divorce in the first place?”

   “It’s quite simple, really,” he said. “We didn’t follow those two things.”

   I stared at him for a bit longer, and realized that this time, I should be the one offering him silence.

<:>

stargazer
2012-03-30 00:01
tagged as: #personal

   Sometimes all you can offer to a person you cherish is silence. And sometimes, it’s all they need.

"In your anger do not sin": Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.
- Ephesians 4:26-27