November 2008

            As if he was waiting for me all night, Jong In was sprawled on the molding couch with a blanket draped over his body. At least he knew how to take care of himself, I noted. Upon shutting the door, Jong In sprang up from his sleeping position. He appeared to have had a restless sleep, waiting for me. Guilt suddenly consumed me.

            “Sorry,” I automatically said, “I didn’t want –“

            “Were you crying?” He interrupted me as he took a few steps towards where I stood. I briefly looked away, refusing to meet eyes with Jong In. Of all people, I refused to appear weak in front of Jong In. It happened once, and I do not want it to happen again.

            “I’m going to go shower. It’s late, get some rest.” Just as I shuffled my feet towards the bathroom, Jong In clasped onto my wrist. He pulled me towards him as he observed my running nose and red eyes. “You were crying. What happened, Hana?”

            “Jong In, I’m –“

            “Don’t lie to me.” Jong In interjected. “I hate it when people lie. Especially when it’s people I can trust.” His words rang loud and clear to me, but I did not have time to savor his compliments. I was too caught up with my own emotions to react to Jong In.

            “You shouldn’t trust me – I come from a broken family. Why bother pick up the broken glass when you’ll wind up getting hurt at the end of the day?” With that said, I peeled my arm from Jong In’s grip. I didn’t want to linger any longer to see Jong In’s reaction. It would definitely hurt me more.  

* * * *

            Jong In crept into my room as I prepared to go to sleep. I applied a thin layer of moisturizer before heading to bed, ignoring Jong In at all costs. Correction, I did not want Jong In to be in my bedroom. Any other day I would be willing to accept, but not today.

            “If you want my bedroom, I’ll just sleep outside.” I grabbed a pillow and a blanket, advancing towards the door. For the second time in the night, Jong In latched onto my arm.

            “If you don’t want to talk about today, then don’t. I’m just here to let you know that someone’s here for you. Someone who cares for you,” he softly said.

            “Jong In, I appreciate it, but not today.” As if expecting me to slip away, Jong In’s grip tightened.

            “Sleep here – it’s warmer in here as opposed to outside in the living room.” Jong In pushed me towards my bed, leaving me no choice but to crawl into my covers. I expected him to leave after tucking me in, but he didn’t. Instead, he tucked himself beside me. We were too close for comfort, leaving my heart to be hammering against my chest.

            I looked at him, and he seemed to have gotten the message. “Don’t mind me – I’m cold. I want some body heat, you know?” My eyebrow rose, dismissing everything he said. Jong In finally gave up. I was expecting him to leave afterwards, to leave me to be. But he didn’t.

            He pulled me into his arms – my face rubbed against his surprisingly firm chest. “You’re not the only one with a broken family. I, too, have a messed up family. I, too, tried picking up the broken shards only to be injured afterwards. You’re not alone, Hana Park. So stop acting strong, because you can’t be any stronger than you already are. Tears don’t signify weakness. It signifies strength, because you’ve kept those tears in for so long.”

            Hearing this, I finally succumbed. I broke down in front of Jong In, sobbing into his chest – like many girls would after breaking up. But I was different. I was crying for a different reason. I was crying because I was strong, as Jong In put it.

            The rest of the night, Jong In held me tight, never letting me go once. When everybody else abandoned me, he was the one who stuck by my side, guiding me through my obstacles. He was the shoulder I could cry to.

            Maybe that was when I began falling in love with Jong In.

* * * *

December 2008

            “Hana! Hana! Hana!” Jong In was practically prancing when he picked me up from the supermarket. He was waving a sheet of paper around, as if it was a flag from “Jong-In-Land.” No, but seriously. He was happy. Like bouncing off the walls happy.