The Blue Room

It's hard to accept it. That I'm sitting in the blue room because I'm afraid to go out. But it's even harder to accept why I'm trapped in here.

We became friends in the first grade. He was short and I was tall, he had red hair and I had brown and he was shy and I was outgoing. We were complete opposites. But Kyungsoo ended up being my best and only friend for twelve whole years. He was the sole person I could count on, and my whole world depended on and surrounded him. He obtained the power to, simply in a matter of seconds, destroy me completely, but at the same time, he could build me up from scratch again in an even shorter amount of time. Wherever we went, we would be "Kyungsoo and Jongin" or "Jongin and Kyungsoo". There were no sentences in the world where our names didn't co-exist. 

The days at school grew shorter when we had each other. We used to send notes back and forth during the boring history lessons, where our ancient teacher went on and on about the same incident for ages. At lunchtime we would draw dragons and flowers in our notebooks and whisper about the countless people who didn't understand. 

Kyungsoo was different, and because of him I was also different. When he smiled or laughed it was like the whole room lit up with an immense feeling of warmth. There was something special about him that made him shine and shimmer wherever he was, something I could never quite put my finger on. I just wish that others had noticed how bright he glowed, too.

Together we painted my room blue. We also bought new blue covers for all of my furniture, so that my room would resemble the sky. We thought that in that way you could feel free even though you were inside. Our sky was composed of dozens of different shades of blue; violet blue, baby blue, sapphire blue, pigeon blue, azure, midnight, navy, ultramarine, indigo, iris... the list goes on. Every color of blue had it's own special meaning to us, each one symbolized various emotions or memories we had shared. We had built ourselves a tranquil haven where being "Jongin and Kyungsoo" was the only way to be. Under the perfectly painted ocean of blue, we had our first kiss. In a flurry of trembling hands searching for each other and blazing hearts beating to the rhythm of our fright, we melted into every speck of blue until we were no more. We were the waves crashing in the sea, the drops of the rain, the flow of the river, the stillness of the lake, the mist toppling over the mountains, the running of tears from ones eyes. We were everything and nothing, all at the same time. And there was no other way we would ever wish to be.

During summer we stood outside and painted a clear, blue sky featuring two birds flying away into a sunset. The birds even looked like the two of us, one of them was red and the other brown. There were no clouds or trees in the scene, just the vivid sky that covered the whole canvas. We spent forever painting it, partially because Kyungsoo started a paint war by painting red on my nose and claiming he was marking himself on me and partly because he would always kiss me back. Later we hung our masterpiece in my room, and there it still remains.

Kyungsoo and I had dreams about moving to an exotic place where we could bask in inspiration and just paint and draw all day. We decided we were going to be world famous artists and therefore we spent most of our time practicing for our fabulous futures. We practiced until our fingers cramped and got blisters, until having pencil and paint marks on our hands was a part of daily life. Looking back, we never regretted it. Every sweat, every tear, every broken piece of lead, it was all worth it. And if I'm allowed to brag about it, then I have to say our creations were quite the sight. At least Kyungsoo's. He had the talent of Frida Kahlo and Leonardo Da Vinci combined, except he was a little doe eyed boy with the biggest heart in the whole wide world. 

We celebrated his birthday in the park. It didn’t matter to us that it was winter, each other’s company would keep us warm enough. I packed a picnic and we dressed accordingly as any couple wanting to show off their partner would; matching backpacks, matching sweaters, jackets, scarves and our fingers intertwined. We stayed together until late that night, just listening to each other’s heartbeats blend in with the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and knocking snow off branches. When we caught a glimpse of the stars coming out, I began to count every kind of shimmer Kyungsoo reminded me of. He laughed at me and said I was silly. I said “I don’t care. I’m silly but I love you.” He decided on shutting me up by planting his lips on mine. Kyungsoo and I would always write each other poems on our birthdays, some were emotional and beautiful, others were silly and cheesy. When the star I had bought him for his birthday became visible, I whispered in his ear “Roses are red, violets are blue. I love you more than anything, you’re the Kyung to my Soo.” He just blinked at me for a bit after that. His eyes became bigger, and I who thought that couldn’t be possible. Then he started sobbing. 

“Did I say something wrong? It’s just a cheesy poem, why are you so upset?” I cupped his face in my hands and wiped his tears away with my thumbs. 

“I... Jongin... You’re so hot...” he replied. I threw my head back and laughed for a good while before petting his head and drying his eyes with the sleeves of my ivory sweater. He giggled weakly at me and mouthed “I love you.”

A couple of months after Kyungsoo's 17th birthday, his mother died in a car accident. He didn't come to school for almost two months, and there was never anyone who opened the door when I came to his house, neither was his phone ever on. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t hold his shaking body until his eyes were dry and his tears stopped flowing. It was so irrevocably painful not to see his beautiful face or hear his soft and velvet-like voice. When he finally did show up for school, he was different. It was like he had transformed into another person. He didn't smile anymore, and so the room in return never lit up. Everything felt cold without his playful judgmental glare, without his warm grin and lighthearted giggle. He would never look anyone in the eyes, and held his gaze down towards the floor at all times. He wouldn’t even so much as come close to me anymore, he was consistently at least two steps away. Suddenly it was my job to try to get Kyungsoo to smile again, though he was the one who used to make me feel okay again before. It was the hardest assignment I had ever needed to solve during my entire life, but I tried my best, I really did. I just didn’t know my best wasn’t good enough.

Many weeks passed by before Kyungsoo even wanted to really speak to me. When he finally did, he broke down in the most heartbreaking way. He cried and cried and his whole body quavered like a full on earthquake while he told me how much he missed his mom. "To lose someone is so extremely unfair." he sobbed. I couldn’t do much but hold him close and tell him his mother would never really leave him. I have never held on to something that strongly before. I wanted to clutch him so tight until every bone in my body broke for him, if that’s what it took to save him, to bring his heart-shaped smile back to his lips again. 

It took a long time, but Kyungsoo slowly turned into himself again. He went back to rejecting serious issues with a smile and by saying "If it doesn't concern life or death, it's not a big deal." We continued to paint and sketch, but I noticed that his pieces were dark and melancholy. Naive and ignorant, I didn't think much of it, really, because I was so sure that he was feeling better. I wanted to believe it because I didn’t know what else to do than love him with all my heart. But he wasn't okay. He was just pretending for my sake. And I was too stupid to notice. 

A year after his mother died, he became quiet and isolated again. If I asked Kyungsoo what was wrong, he would reply "I'm just tired, Jongin." and give me a weak smile and peck on my lips. Alarms blasted off in my head, because of course he wasn't "Just tired.", but I had no idea how to help him. So again, I acted like nothing was going on. I was wrong. So very, very wrong. And now I have to pay the price.

Then autumn came and Kyungsoo never attended the first day of school. Instead of sketching flowers and dragons in lunch, I sat alone until I was summoned to the principals office. 

And then I found out. 

That my best friend, my boyfriend, my soulmate, my other half, my everything, had cut over his blood veins with a sharp blade and that he is dead. 

The principal tried to comfort me, since I was screaming in his office and crying so hard that even gulping for air was a challenge. He said that life goes on so suddenly without you knowing. But his words never reached me. All I could feel was a big, gaping whole inside of my chest that expanded and expanded until I thought it would swallow me whole then and there. I wish it actually did.

At first I was mad. So furious that I yelled at the top of my lungs. How dare he leave me all alone? Why didn't he just talk to me? Why did he desert me in this dump to fend for myself?

Then I laid on the floor of the principal's office and tried to catch my breath. "This IS a big deal, Kyungsoo, this has EVERYTHING to do with life and death, you can't deny this!" I had shrieked. Then came the pain, the sheer sweltering and piercing hurt that rippled throughout my entire body. Complete and utter torment. I have nothing... without him, I am nothing. The principal called my mom because my behavior was headache-inducing, and she picked me up. 

Since that day I have been sitting in my blue room, staring intensely at the wall. And the birds on our painting laugh at me, mock me for being so pathetic. "You could have saved him, you fool." I keep clear of windows, news, anything that tells me that the world outside these four walls is moving on, because it can't be, not without him. 

To just sit in the dark and cry is feeble and petty, but it is the only thing I can do. I hate myself and I hate him.

I neglect sleeping at night and stay awake staring out into the dark blue nothingness. In my mind I write him the same letter over and over again but I know he will never receive it.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m so sorry I was such a terrible person that I wasn’t able to pay attention to what was happening before it was too late. I let myself believe in the front you put on, I lied to myself like you did, because I was afraid... that one day I might turn around, and you wouldn’t be there. But now I live in my own demise. I’m awake in my biggest nightmare but I won’t ever wake up... and neither will you. I’m running in circles, screaming your name over and over again, but you can’t hear me, because there is no scream, no sound. I’m searching for you in a forest, where I’ve lost my way and can’t find the way out. I’m just... so sorry, Kyungsoo. I wish I could take it all back. I miss you so much I think I might die. I never knew how it feels to love someone so much it hurts stronger than any psychical pain ever could. I thought I could hold you so tight and protect you from the world. I’m sorry. Kyungsoo... I love you. Always.”

It's wintertime now, but I'm still stuck in the past season. It feels like I am dead as well, and all I can think is that I wish it was me. That I was the dead one and he was alive. He deserves to live so much more than I do. 

Now I haven't painted for four months, not since the day he left. I can't so much as look at a piece of paper or a pencil. If I do, my mind gets flooded with the thought that we will never ever draw or paint together again, there will never be a “Jongin and Kyungsoo” and our future together ceases to exist, and my insides shriek of unfairness. I feel so alone. The world suddenly became so gigantically big and scary without him.

And he's gone. And it hurts so much. And I can't go out of the blue room, because then I will lose the only piece of him I have left.

Late one night, as I move past our painting, a little note slips out. It’s a poem. In his handwriting. “Roses are red, violets are blue. I love you more than anything, and I know you do too. Yours always, Kyungsoo.”

This is when the wall has been hit too many times, when the flame takes its final blow. I sink to the ground with the paper that smells of him in my hands and cry and shriek until my throat runs dry and my eyes collapse shut. I wake up in a pool of my own sweat. I read his note a million times but I cannot determine when it was written. Did he know he was leaving me when he wrote it? Or did he hide it after that day in the park? The more I read his last poem, the more I feel guilty. Not for not saving him, not for failing him, but for giving up on my dream. Our dream. Suddenly I'm filled with a tremendous desire to fulfill our goal. Paint for him. He could not bear to continue to live, but I have to. For the both of us.

I took a deep breath, got up, opened the windows, grabbed a sketchbook and a pencil, and walked out of the blue room.