XVI. What Matters

“If you disappeared
It's like the world would fall
I would lose control so never let me go
Never let me go”

~ Gravity (Jason Chen)
 

PRESENT

(YONGHWA)

Here’s the thing about truth: no matter how long you wait to say or hear it, it still matters. The truth sets us free, they say. It will either give us one big sigh or the loudest thuds in our chest. It might come in the very nick of time or it might be too late for it to repair anything that was broken.
 

Whatever the outcome, or none at all, it still matters.

The truth matters.

And my truth is right here in front of me.

One big sigh and loud thuds in my chest. Too late for something; just in the nick of time for the rest.

But most of all I am stunned. I don’t know exactly what to say to that—much less to feel anything more than this sudden twist in my stomach, the drums of my heart, the knot in my throat, the shaking of my limbs and the sting in my eyes.

“I could not… I cannot… I’m so sorry… I held him for more than four hours… only h-hours…”

Her voice fades like it was taken away by the rushing breeze.

We had a baby—I had a son.

A son.

My Seohyun is crying silently and rocking herself softly. She looks so lost and so alone yet I am standing here just a few steps away from her. That distance—this overwhelming sensation inside me, I never thought this feeling could exist. It is still very painful but this pain—this anger, where to put them all? I feel so weak. Seeing her like that, hearing her little whimpers. It pains me even more.

Now I don’t even remember what I was fighting for.

There is only one direction I see right now.

There is only one option.

Slowly, my feet move closer to where she is. My legs bend and my body collapses behind her. My head drops on her back, my hands hold on to each of her arm as if supporting my body. I cry silently with her and I feel her hands rest on my own.

We cry together, silently.  For a good deal of minutes, we are just two parents in front of the grave of their son—the son I never knew existed until today, the son she held in her arm for four hours. Where to go now? What to do now? I ask myself only those questions. No more blaming, no more anger, just pure pain and my love for her that is inevitable.

Yes, she has always been that to me—inevitable.

I fight—I fought this feeling and I lost over and over again. First, when I volunteered that night. Second, when I didn’t leave the island and spent time with her. And, after that, I couldn’t remember how many more times I gave in to her and lost my battles.

And here I am, down on my knees, holding her and crying with her. Once again, I am here waving my white flag.

Whipped, defeated and owned.

When I finally find the strength, I guide her up gently. This time I didn’t let go, instead I snake my arms on her waist, pulling her close and locking my fingers together to keep her against me. I rested my head on the crook of her neck remembering her scent—remembering how much I love this woman. Breathing her scent, breathing her existence. I embrace her so tight and, once more, I cry. I cry and she cries for what we had. For our baby. For the moments we spent away from each other. For the pain we inflicted to each other. For us. 

“I’m sorry…”

I hear her say and I nod softly. I turn her to me, her eyes meeting mine. Those eyes full of anguish. Pushing some strands of hair off her face and tucking them behind her ears, I smile and press my lips on her forehead and stay there for a moment. Then I cradle her hands on my chest as I look at her again, “How did he look like?”

“He… he was beautiful,” Seohyun smiles passing a quick glance behind me where our little boy rests. When her gaze returns to me, she sniffs, “He’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen in my life… I thought he had your eyes and your nose.”

I smile gently at her encouraging her to talk some more. And then she laughs softly, “I called him Yong after you and… b-because he was puffing air so heavily, trying to live. My little dragon—he was… trying really hard,” she sobs again despite herself, then drops her head on my chest, “Our beautiful little boy.”

“I’m so sorry… if I had known…” I kiss the crown of her head and rub her back.

“No… no… you didn’t. It was all on me—my fault.”

I pull her off me again and cup her cheeks when she looks at me. My damsel, despite her tears, looks so beautiful. I take off my jacket and wipe the remaining tears on my face then I give it to her to do the same. For the first time, she laughs and wipes her face then hugs my jacket, “I’m such a mess.”

“Beautiful mess,” I correct her and lay my lips on hers. I kiss her—I am actually kissing her. The feeling is overwhelming. When was the last time? It never felt so good. Her kiss. Her presence. The softness of her l