I hold her gently in my arms, tenderly and carefully; like a baby learning to walk for the first time. My eyes reach deeply into hers, observing the perfect symmetry of her features, and devouring the sweet delicacy of her smile. I smile back at her, lovingly, as I hold her up slowly to allow her to regain her posture before she turns and takes off gracefully into the air.

I wish I am part of all these.

I turn my attention back to the couple, through the glass window, away from the false reality of my fantasy. I re-familiarize myself with the "him" beside her, and replace all the "I"s in my fantasy with his name, although I do not know what it is. I think he is called "Chris". He looks like one.

I wish I am Chris.

Chris had gone forward to turn off the music that surrounded the dance studio just a minute ago while I was still absorbed in my own thoughts. He had picked up the bottle of water that was sitting beside the CD player and passed it to her. How thoughtful of him. Of Chris. Indeed Chris knows exactly what she needs at the right time. If only God permits me the same opportunity, I can be that same "Chris" before her. Or perhaps, even, a better one. I believe I can be a better Chris.

I would call upon her name lovingly everyday, in my low, husky voice. So Eun. My dear So Eun. I can almost imagine myself doing that. Almost. My imagination fails me the moment I open my mouth. I do not know how to imagine the tone of my voice, or even the sound of it. It may not even be low and husky; I only assume it to be, because Chris has a low and husky voice, and she seems to like it.

I am fine with any other kinds of voices though, as long as it sounds like a guy's. As long as it has a sound. I have a soundless voice. Inaudible - you may call it. Just don't say that I have no voice. A soundless voice still sounds better than no voice at all. At least I have a voice, it is just soundless.

I cannot trace back to the day that I lost my voice, or rather, lost the sound of my voice; it all seemed a blur. Perhaps I lost it when I was a kid, or maybe even long before that - when I was still in my mother's womb. My mother never told me how I had lost it; she said it was better for me to not know it. Reality is cruel, she said, sometimes it's better to stay ignorant. And I listened to her. I am glad that I did, for it was the last time she said something to me. I found her lying dead on a hospital bed the next day, her body covered up in white. White is the color of Angels. Pure and taintless. My mother had left me to join the Angels - I want to believe that.

I am sorry, son, I remember the doctor saying it to me, we have done our best. They wanted to put me through a counseling session after my mother's death, to ensure that I did not deal with emotional traumas on my own. I was, after all, only six, and they were worried about me. I rejected them though, because I believed I could deal with it on my own. But you will get nightmares at night, one of the doctors tried to persuade me into going for counseling, and nightmares are scary. I never took his word. I don't ever get nightmares when I'm asleep; I only have them when I'm awake. My life is a nightmare.

And no one can get me out of it.

■■■■■■■■■

The good weather holds. It is almost June, and the sun is shining brighter day after day. I walk along the streets of Seoul, enjoying the warm bath of the sunlight. The radiance of the morning sun reminded me of a song:

Your are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey.
You'll never know dear, how much I love you,
So please don't take my sunshine away.

It is a cheesy song, but I like it. My mother used to sing it to me when I was three years old. She stopped singing it to me when I was four; when my father left us for another woman. I wish I could sing the song to So Eun, and be the sunshine in her life. I can brighten up her day just like how Chris does, and I would sing her all the love songs I know of.

If only I can sing.

I spot So Eun a distance away, with her arm enwrapped around the arm of Chris'. I see them walking in unison into a shop along the street, looking exceptionally happy today. Curious, I follow her. I stop in front of the shop and peer through the glass window. It is a bridal shop. Beautifully lit and decorated with a dreamy hue of baby pink. So they are getting married soon. So, I will be losing her soon.

I've never had her in the first place, anyway. How can I lose her when I have never had her? So I will not lose her. Because she is never mine.

I wish I can write more like a human. With more emotions conveyed. I would describe that feverish feeling whenever I see So Eun dancing elegantly to the soft beat of the music - how my heart would beat like a supersonic train, how my breathing would become stiffened like ice blocks in the fridge, and how my face would be colored with profound shades of tulip red. At these times, such exaggerations would be rendered necessary.

So. Now I am supposed to feel that familiar sense of hopelessness gripping at my heart. I should feel an iciness sinking into my vessels and penetrating my blood cells. I should feel like I am being swallowed up by a green-eyed monster. Or maybe I am that green-eyed monster. I always have been. I am jealous of Chris for having So Eun. I am jealous of him for having a low and husky voice. I am jealous of him for being able to speak. I am jealous of him for being able to live like a normal person. I am jealous of him for...

When will it ever end?

■■■■■■■■■

55dB.

I wonder what that means. 55dB of hearing loss. What exactly does that mean?

Post-lingual deafness, the doctor told me in his office many years ago, it is a long term degradation in hearing loss. I had no idea what it meant, then. I couldn't ask him to explain - I couldn't speak, and my mother had gone with the Angels. But now I know what it means, I had checked it up in the medical book which was left rotting in my father's study room. I wish I never knew what it means though. Maybe life would have been better that way. Sometimes it's better to stay ignorant.

In a gradually heating bathtub you'd be boiled to death before you knew it. I wouldn't mind that. At least I wouldn't feel any pain. I wouldn't realize it.

So what is the new figure that is assigned to me? I wonder. 71dB, perhaps. The last time I had went for a checkup was five years ago, now the number should have risen to 71dB, or more. I wonder when I will lose my hearing completely. It is better not to think about it at all.

I wish this is merely a story that I'm telling to myself. I would like to believe it. I want to believe it. If this is merely a story that I'm telling, then I would have control over the ending. It would be a happy ending. Prince Choi Seung Hyun would live happily ever after with his Princess Kim So Eun in a magnificent palace. In that palace Prince Choi Seung Hyun would be able to speak, and he would not have a 71dB of hearing impairment.

But in reality this isn't a story that I am telling. And it never will be.

■■■■■■■■■

Church bell rings; chiming a silvery song. Its marvelous tune flows sensuously into the morning air and fuses with the gentle breeze. And together they chorus in perfect harmony, like heaven's symphony. Like the voice of Angels'.

In reality there's no voice of Angels'. Because Angels do not exist. They only live in my fantasy.

I sit down on the bench in the church hall. At a spot where no one will notice me. Isolated. I will not like to be noticed, what's the point of interacting with others, anyway? They will not understand my language. My silent language. And soon I will not understand theirs as well. Everything will be silent. And silence is golden.

Soon the hall is filled up with people, people who are friends and relatives of my beloved So Eun. And of Chris. The groom is now busy greeting everyone. He is happy, he looks ecstatic. I would be, too, if I were him. I am him. I am Chris.

In my fantasy.

The bride appears shortly after, in her most elegant demeanor. My bride. I smile at her, and she smiles back at me through her veil. These are smiles of happiness, of blissfulness. I wait patiently for her at the altar, with the pastor behind me. She takes small but graceful steps towards me, her arms around a middle-aged man. Her father. My soon-to-be father-in-law.

And in less than a minute, she is standing peacefully beside me, her hand interlocked in mine.

Would you, Kim So Eun, take Christopher Choi Seung Hyun, to be your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part? I perceive the pastor says.

Yes, I do. She says.

And would you, Christopher Choi Seung Hyun, take Kim So Eun, to be your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward...

I do not answer him. And I do not slip the ring into her finger; nor she into mine. I do not hear a thunderous applause. I do not hear the spontaneous cheers from the crowd.

I only hear the sound of silence. Absolute silence.

99dB. It must be. Now I'm entitled to appreciate the beauty of silence in its full glory. Finally.

Standing up from my seat, I left the church hall. In silence.

At least now I can hear the sound of silence. And this is something the rest can't hear.