Letters to you.
us.
L.Joe's POV;
It's humorous, almost. At a certain perspective, that is.
How we, as humans, don't acknowledge what we have within our reach, in our grasp, until it's no longer there. Until it sprouts wings and leaves the radius of our comfort circle. Until it completely vanishes.
And I was a victim of humanity's cruelity.
I was among the ungrateful.
Because I used to have the best there was, but I didn't know it. I didn't even think of it.
I didn't compare him to the best, because I thought he was no where near it.
Oh, how wrong I was.
He used to be so easily controlled. Oblivious to how I tinkered with him in the palm of my hands, how I used every part of him to keep myself from feeling a dreadful loneliness that followed me about. It wasn't until later that I realized the loneliness never subsided.
It was just in hiding, waiting for an opportunity of his departure to attack.
I mistook him for a distraction, but in reality, he was my protection.
He had a clashing nature, the type to be restless during nights, and even days. There was no time to rest in between, because he believed that time will somehow stop, soon, if not, later. He truly lived each day to its fullest, whether I joined him or not. It didn't matter. But he was just too much for me to handle, yet every second spent with him, was every second I felt truly alive. Like I was living, for once, and not just breathing.
I mistook him to be a burden, but in reality, he was my life.
We lived together, in my apartment that didn't smell at all like a home. He complained to his heart's content about it, but the fact never changed, because I never tried to, yet he did countless times too many. I didn't put any effort into making it as comfortable as he pleased, because I didn't know what it lacked.
But it was now obvious.
It didn't lack the scent, it lacked the feeling. It didn't lack the furniture, it lacked the memories. It didn't lack the communication, it lacked the effort. But now it was no longer lacking any of those aspects, yet it felt no more like home than it did before. Because now it lacked the most important aspect of all.
It lacked Chanhee.
Because he finally realized that I wasn't worth the effort, since I wasn't putting in as much as he did.
And he really did, for 6 months and more.
Yet during those times, my stupidity prevented me from understanding, from down-right seeing. I was blinded by my own selfishness to even draw my attention to him. To even ask a simple question about him, how his day was, and what his hobbies were.
It wasn't until now that I realized I didn't know a thing about him, yet he knew many things about me. He knew how I didn't like to be disturbed when I was fast asleep, and how I liked my coffee not very strong compared to his, and how I enjoyed settling down and resting for most of the day.
He knew my loneliness, and that's why he was there beside me whenever I was awake.
He knew my stupidity, and that's why he volunteered to do most of the chores before I screwed something up.
He knew I'd regret not stopping him when he left with his packed suitcases, and it turns out, I did.
He knew me, more than I knew myself.
And I knew him, as well as I knew a stranger.
But now, with only a vague memory of what used to be, I've begun to live solely in the past, recalling every detail I had somehow overlooked when living it. And each time, I found a moment where I had worn a wide smile so effortlessly.
Which somehow I had ended up forgetting how it feels like.
And how it looked like
on my own face.
If I had known my feelings sooner, would I be drowning in my own stream of consciousness? Would I be thinking this so thoroughly that my brain would flood from the thoughts driven through it? Would I be suffocating on my own regret that follows me wherever I would go? Would I be bleeding from the guilt I wish I could've prevented instead of keeping my pride so high? Would I even be here right now?
Chances are, I wouldn't.
I would be happy, wouldn't I?
At this moment, if I had just shared the love Chanhee gave me, I would be happy.
I would smile without forcing myself to.
I would laugh without knowing how to.
I would love without actually trying to.
I would be happy, no matter what, in his grasp, listening to his voice, and watching his gaze.
I would be happy.
But now, he is no longer here. And I'm sure he is doing better now than he was when he was stuck with someone like me.
I'm sure he found someone who knows his worth.
Someone I wish I could be.
And maybe now, I am.
But now, isn't then.
And now is too late.
So for now, as I watch the world from inside of my empty home, waiting for someone who will never return.
I will indulge myself in his scent of the sheets of my bed that I will never wash.
I will keep myself reminded of his features with the photos that I will never throw away.
And I will spill my overflowing feelings for him into letters that I will never send.
But I will breathe.
And I will keep on breathing.
As long as he continued to live in the abyss of my heart,
I will live.
We will live.
And no one will ever know.
Not even him.
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