June 2009

            “Hana, don’t you want to spend more quality time with Sehun?” Jong In asked during one of our many dinner appointments. Sehun had excused himself to the restroom, leaving behind Jong In and I to tend to ourselves.

            “Of course I do,” I said, “but it’s not nice if we exclude you.”

            “…haven’t you ever considered how Sehun feels about it, though?”

            “I’m sure he’s fine with it,” I replied briskly, merely brushing it off. “Why, did he tell you to say this?”

            “No – but if I was dating someone and I brought you along everywhere, I’d think my girlfriend would be jealous. Sooner or later we’ll break up because of that.”

            “…Jong In, stop saying such ridiculous things,” I denied. “Let’s eat.”

* * * *

            Eventually, Jong in was right about his prediction. Sehun and I had been bickering over the issue for a while now, but we never came to an agreement to break up. We just never had the courage to.

            “Sometimes I question if Jong In is your boyfriend or if I’m your boyfriend,” Sehun hotly said.

            “You are – can’t you be a little more understanding?”

            “I have been understanding of you. Fine, tell me then, when was the last time we went on actual date for just the two of us?”

            “Oh Sehun, don’t you dare ask me this,” I said with my nostrils flared. “Don’t put me in a situation like this. You know how much Jong In means to me.”

            “Which is precisely why we can’t be together anymore – what would happen if we were to get married? Would you have Jong In move into our house? What happens if we get kids? Don’t you think our kids will question who their dad is?” Sehun dryly laughed. “I don’t want to act as a backup anymore. I thought we could make this work. But we can’t, Hana. You won’t change.”

            “I can change! You’re just not accepting!”

            “Don’t be afraid of change, Hana. You need to accept it in order for your heart to stop hurting. But I realized that you can’t accept change. You’re as stubborn as ever.”

            “What, are you breaking up with me, Oh Sehun?”

            “I think I am, Hana Park.”

* * * *

            It took a year for Sehun and I to return to what we used to be. It was awkward at times, and I wouldn’t lie – I wondered if I wasn’t so stubborn back then…would I actually have a happy ending with Sehun? I realized too late that change was for the better, in my case, at least.

            If I had been more willing, would my heart stop hurting?

            But it was useless to regret – the past had already happened.

            I just had to move on, and learn from my mistakes.

* * * *

April 2014

            It was a winter wonderland – snow covered everything outside. I laughed happily as I fell on the ground and flailed my arms about. It felt good to be a kid again – as a kid, we got to do anything we wanted. If we made a mistake, we would be reprimanded lightly. As a kid, life…was carefree.

            I saw a sled tucked behind the house on the hill. Delighted, I ran up the hill and got a hold of the sled. I then proceeded to slide down the gradient. The feeling of adrenaline picked up as I continued this process of going up the hill and sliding down the slope.

            It was carefree. Time…was endless.

* * * *

September 2014

            I was in a flower garden dressed in denim overalls. The sun beat down on my neck, but there was a slight breeze to cool myself down. The temperature was moderate, and it was the perfect weather to go on a picnic. I picked at a rose, forgetting there were thorns. It pricked my finger, causing blood to slowly ooze out. I held my finger up to my lip, away at the red.

            Someone called out my name. I spun around and saw a familiar figure.

            I smiled as I advanced towards the figure. He spun me around as I embraced him tightly. I addressed him through mumbles, “Jong In, I’ve missed you.” He was dressed in a collared striped shirt with some khaki pants. All that was missing from his outfit was a fedora, but Jong In already looked like a model ripped from the glossy covers of InStyle.

            “I’m sorry,” he said, still hugging me.

            “For what?” I asked, curious.

            “For everything, Hana. I love you.”

            “…I love you too,” I said uncertainly. I began to feel Jong In’s grip on my waist loosen.

            “Change…change for me,” he said. “Go, Hana. Be happy.”  

* * * *

            Steady heartbeats fill my eardrums first. Then the sharp scent of hand sanitizer makes its way up my n