Chance Number One

Point Two

I can still remember the day when he told me that he loves me. It’s so vivid in my memory that, sometimes, I think it never really happened – that it’s all just a figment of my imagination. My fantasy. But then, I can also remember his kiss, his soft lips pressed tightly against mine and the feeling that he was drinking all of me through my own lips. And even his arms around my waist, tightening with every second that passed, promising me warmth for as long as forever lasts. And, most importantly, I remember all his words, his concern and thoughtfulness and gentleness and love.

I can’t deny all these things. I can’t pretend that any of them never happened. I can’t imagine living my life thinking that all these disappeared.

And it’s entirely my fault.

Now, as I sit on my desk, staring blankly at his former office space, I swallow the bitter tears that threaten to escape my heart. Because he’s gone away, and I don’t know if things will ever be the same in my life.

“So, it is true, huh?” I hear someone say beside me. I don’t know who it is, and I don’t have the heart to find out and answer. “So he did take the transfer.”

I stand up and walk towards his desk. I lay my hand where there used to be picture frames of him and my brother and me, his family, me. Now there’s nothing on the table. It is too bare for me to handle and I look up to find my best friend watching me, observing me.

“I didn’t even know that he took the job,” I say to her in one breath before shifting my eyes back to the table. “He didn’t tell me. Even oppa didn’t bother telling me. It’s like he had just vanished.”

She heaves a loud sigh, ambling towards where I am. She wraps me tightly in her arms, the warmth not really as comforting as I need.

He has left.

Just as I am about to tell him how much I love him.