Age 18

Words are useless when people throw them out so carelessly.  Love is useless when people bring it up so easily.  Life is useless when people fall behind so quickly.

Jongin sits by Young In's bed each day and asks himself if his words, his love, and his life is turning out just like that.  Useless.  Without Young In, if his life will have any meaning at all.  Or if everything will just be seconds that pass and hours that tick just because time moves on it own, because time doesn't stop even when he has so much to tell her.  So much he hasn't told her and so much he hasn't done for her.  Jongin asks himself if he is doing the right thing, by praying and asking that she'll be able to wake up every morning and tell him that her head hurts, or that her hands are cold.  Jongin asks himself if he's just being selfish--by yearning for Young In's life just so he can have value in his.  

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Young In doesn't eat.  She doesn't drink.  She doesn't ask any questions.  She doesn't smile.  

The Young In that used to bother Jongin day by day with her snooping questions and inquiring eyes, lies in bed today, and sleeps for hours at a time.  She doesn't talk when she wakes up, only stares at the ceiling as a few quiet tears dot her pillows.

Jongin knows she hates staying in bed like this, in one place when there's so many other things to see and do.  He dries the tears that she cries, collecting each one as if it will lessen the fear that is hiding somewhere.  One day that fear will come out and bring down his world, but for now, he is holding everything up by the hope in his heart and the promises he made--that he will not give up.