Listened

“Can I call you later?”

Only when it’s raining?

No.

“Anytime.”

…

I answered the call on the fifth ring. I had been there even before it rang, but maybe it was my way of saying, I was not waiting for your call since I left the library and never leave the phone since then.

“Hello”

Silence.

There was a long silence; the silence which had always been the part of our conversation.

“It’s weird”, I voiced.

“What is?” a soft and calm voice questioned my statement; a familiar voice that didn’t change even through medium.

“There’s no the sound of the rain to fill the silence”, I said. All this time I was thinking that the silence was made by us to listen to the rain. But it didn’t rain now, there was only silence. “You don’t feel weird?” I continued.

“No”, you said. “It feels nice”, somehow I could imagine you forming a familiar smile through that sentence.

“And why is that?”

“Cause I can hear you breathing.”

…

That was our last conversation that day. But it didn’t end our call. We let it connected, until we said good morning, then had a short morning talk before we finally called it off.

It also rained today. This time I got to the library faster than you. I brought two books with me. One was the book I began to read lately after I decided to close the other book I brought today—the book with the bookmark between page 71 and 72.

I was reading after I drew the circle on the foggy window. I had finished three pages before I began to hear the loud inhaling sounds. A rocker boy was the reason behind it. Your steps were calm and slow, but still they were like speakers for most of us.

“What make you love to read?” you asked me. I took a moment of recalling all the time I spent for reading and tried to find why I even bothered to read.

“It because through reading, I’m able to find out and understand each of the character in it. When I don’t get it, I can start from the beginning, trying to understand them until I do understand. Understand the real them through both of their words and minds.

But the best part is, when I can find out what is the writer trying to tell me. The scream that is hidden under those mute words.”

You accepted all the words I had just said and somehow, I believed you understood.

“Maybe I should be more like you”, you suggested yourself.

“Why’s that?”

“What I do has always been the opposite of what you do. One of the reasons which nowadays become the main reason of making music for me is that because I want to be heard, and what’s worse is that I want to be understood. I want them to listen to my words between the screams of the instruments.

Unlike you who read because you want to understand, I just want to be understood”, you exposed with higher tone than usual.

The only reason why you didn’t scream to the top of your lungs right now was that because we were in library. At first, it confused me why you suddenly let out your frustration and anger, for it usually always stayed at the depth of person’s heart.

But then I understood, it had always been in the tip of your tongue. It was destroying you from inside, demanded to be thrown, but you sewed your own mouth with seam of fear and today, accidentally I cut those weary seam.

It spilled. The flow was too strong for you to sew your mouth back. You could not even found the needle for I had hid it in the hay and I had replaced your seam with trough for I would not let your sorrow went unnoticed.

“But no one listens, no one understands. And again the best part is, no one even bothers to try. So lately, I found myself stop voicing words. I don’t know since when I started this new way of living, the only thing I know is that.

they muted me.”

By not listening, you muted someone else was the thing I learnt from listening to you. You confessed the rots in you heart with a bitter voice, a voice which didn’t match you. Still you didn’t scream, but I could see you panting. Those atrocious words were taking your breath, so I looked you in the eyes, trying to teach you how to breathe again.

The bell that showed the break time was over rang at the same time when a drop of water left one of your eyes and drew a wet trace on your cheek. It didn’t surprise me, to be honest, I was glad.

“It’s okay”, I said as I reached your hand which on the table. “I’m listening, so it’s okay. I’ll ask you once I don’t get it, but up till now, I understand”

You let out another tear, becoming as beautiful as the silence and the rain.

“Thank you..

Thank you..” you kept repeating those words between your sobs with some chuckled in it. You were free to voice anything for the library was empty by now. So you began to sobs harder, then still saying the words thank you breathlessly. In the end, you chuckled then start laughing. The sobs began to turn into giggles and now you were saying thank you with a grin on your face. I found myself giggling with you.

“Thank you.. Su Ji.”

Ah.. if just by listening, you could make someone feel so much grateful. I wanted to listen more. I would always listen.

I didn’t know how long it had passed since the break time was over, but the rain had also stopped since then. It didn’t rain now, but still here we were. Laughing loudly in the empty library, holding hands.

“We will still get punish even if we come back now. Is it okay for you to stay here a little longer? I’m getting sleepy”, you said followed by yawns.

“You ask me to choose between class and sleep? You must be kidding me”, I chuckled lightly. You bent down your head then finally put in on the table, I followed.

I put my other hand as my pillow and you did the same thing with your hand. Our other hand was still holding each other and we put it between our face on the table.

I closed my eyes and started to feel the sleepiness hitting me. There was no other sound beside ours in the library. Not even the sound of the rain that used to fill the silence for us. This time I finally able to hear something you already heard from me.

“Hey, Myungsoo”, I called you for the last time before we both drove to sleep.

“Yeah Su Ji?”

“I can hear you breathing”

...