Life – my life in particular – can be summed up into very few, and rare, defining moments. In these moments, things either suddenly make sense, or life will appear to be nothing but a heartbreaking array of chaos. A moment is all it takes to build a future, or destroy one. Sometimes both happen simultaneously and yet the universe doesn’t implode, nor does time and space cease to be. Though, some may argue that time is a human concept, and thus doesn’t really exist unless one believes it to be so. But does that make this moment not exist? Does that make the torture of social or economic pressure not exist? Or is existence really defined by this moment here, when my life is nothing but an explosion of every bad decision I have ever made.

   This moment.

   Suzy is yelling at me again. Screaming vile hatred, like some kind of hissing animal, for getting laid off due to recent budget cuts. She looks at me with disappointment, I wish I could say that she looked adoringly at me, but all I have seen in her dark irises lately is resentment. I stole her life from her. Maybe I should be focused on that, on what I’ve done wrong this time, but I can’t help but think about the moment that I first saw her.

   It was her lips that drew me in.

   And after so many shy, awkward conversations and walks home from school, I finally gathered the courage to ask her to our junior prom. That moment felt great, watching the way her perfect lips curved and she tucked a tuff of brown hair behind her ear as she casually accepted. A little more than nine months later, another moment happened.

   And while I finished my last year of high school, took on as many jobs doing whatever labor I could to support my wife and newborn, she became a stay-at-home mother. I didn’t get to see her smile so much, after that. A piercing cry from the bedroom stops the downpour of venom being excreted onto me. Our eyes lock and before I can lie and tell her that I love her, she is gone.

   “Find another job, or find another wife!”

As I step out the back door, into the backyard, I wonder when I became so unbearable for her, that the mere sight of me made her frown. When did she start hating me so much?

   I run a hand through my hair, vaguely noting how long it’s getting in my attempt to calm my mind. I think of space, how the stars flicker over my head and the light of the moon, reflected by the sun hidden on the other side of the world. It doesn’t work, though. All the beauty of the solar system, of the entire universe, fails to put my thoughts at ease. The sound of a throat clearing somewhere behind me jolts my body into spinning around and I see a silhouette sitting on the step of the house next door, my neighbor sits with his phone in hand, but he is looking at me through the darkness.

   “Good evening.” I bow just to be polite, not because I feel like talking.

   “Or not so good, for some . . .” Comes his quiet reply and I can feel my stomach drop as he pockets the cellular device.

   I frown. “Were you listening?”

   “Not on purpose,” He admits apologetically, I can see his face when he rises and steps into the light that shines through the screen door. I spend this moment taking in his handsome features, the most beautiful being the large, eager eyes that he stares at me with. “Your wife is really loud.” He blushes, and I already know that it’s not his first time hearing what goes on in my shoebox of a house.

   “Sorry.” I murmur but it is half hearted.

   He shakes his head as he leans against the chain link fence that divides our two properties, divides us. “It’s . . . none of my business.”

   It’s true, but I still feel that I owe him something in return for disrupting his life with my personal bull. But I have nothing to give him. So I tick my hands in my pockets and look up at the sky once more.

   “What are you doing out here anyway?” I ask, looking back at his freakishly huge, kind, tender looking brown eyes.

   He responds simply. “Stealing wifi.”

   I can’t help my gasp, bringing my hand to my open mouth in false surprise. “Oh, how deviant!”

    His laughter rings in my ears like some sweet melody a songbird sings in the morning time, his eyes almost close as his cheeks push up and his lips spread into a carefree, beautiful smile so infectious, I can’t help but laughing along with him. We share this fleeting moment, this breathy laughter that dissipates into the cool night air and settles down with such ease.

   He notices me watching him and repays me by looking down, giving me a silent permission to continue as he bites his bottom lip and tries to stifle more of his laughs. “Chansung, are you outside?” Someone calls from in his house and he looks up so fast I can’t be sure that I really saw the hint of disappointment in his eyes as he called back. “Neh, halmoni! I’ll be right in.” He looks at me again. “I’ll see you around . . . Taecyeon, right?”

   For some stupid reason, I smile all teeth and gums. “Yeah.” The word falls from my lips lazily, and I end up waiting until he’s almost inside before deciding to speak up, sometime simple, like me. “Goodnight.”

   With a nod, he leaves me feeling peacefully odd. And in this particular moment, I feel lighter, stronger. I feel hope.

I’m dreaming now, I know I must be because Suzy is looking at me like she is mine. Like I am hers. Like she wants me to be hers. The warmth of her body against mine engulfs me in a blanket of hands on my back as I push inside of her, the world flares into sepia. She looks at me, smiling. I am numb to it. Between the quiet sniffling under me, my heartbeat quickens as my head fills with the sound of the universe singing my name in the tune of a heavy moan. A deep, guttural moan. Masculine. Those eyes look up at me. They are not her eyes. Those eager earth brown eyes look up at me, filled with passion and desire, like staring at the stars in the sky the night we met. I feel the warmth of his body against mine. I am fire. Consuming him without even a morsel of regret. Between the quiet sniffling, he screams my name in into the blank white light of the happiness I am in pursuit of.

   I feel only dismay when I awake in the darkness, chest pounding.

   Between my steadying heartbeats I hear her sniffling on the bed next to me. Forcing open my eyes, I vaguely see the woman that is my wife, hunched over the side of the bed with her back towards me, like I cannot see her emptiness from this angle. My finger twitches, but for her sake, I keep still. I know that my embrace is not the one she craves.

   My love is not the love she needs.

   I close my eyes and try my hardest not to breathe.

A note sits on the bed before me. It is the only thing that welcomed me home apart from the hair-raising silence in the empty house, nearly an hour ago. The door to the wardrobe where she keeps her clothes hangs open and I can see into the darkness of it that is it also empty, but my eyes only truly see the note lying face up on the perfectly made bed; the one word, hastily written, probably not long ago.

   Mianhae.

   She is gone.

   Amongst all the feelings twisting and forcing their way out of me, is it sad that I notice a calming sense of relief, hidden under the desperation of failure?

   The sound of the doorbell pulls me from my daze, and I am only slightly inclined to answer. Go away. I close my eyes and hope that they do. The third ring of the bell is accompanied with a harsh pounding on the door and, with a sigh that I haven’t killed myself yet I drag my feet to see whoever is demanding my attention.

   Chansung looks worried as he stands at my doorstep and stares at me through the screen door. In one arm he carries a familiar blue bag, and in the other, a mound rests on his shoulder underneath a green cat printed blanket. “Noona asked me to look after him . . . until you got home.”

   There is something more in his eyes, some dark secret that I feel as he stares at me, I am sure he knows. He knows. That is why he looks at me like I am broken, like I have been in some accident and will never recover. Maybe I have, maybe it is just that. An accident. Everything is an accident.

   A surreal anxiety floods me as the boy that has been haunting my dreams first hands me the diaper bag before carefully placing my son into my arms. I look down at the accidental life that I created as Chansung tucks the blanket around him. I feel as I did the first time I saw this child – my child – placed in my arms. And just as I felt that first moment, the reality of the situation hits me like a rock thrown at me from a distance.

   Every ounce of relief I felt was drenched in a stomach turning realism that this thing in my hands, the thing that wrecked my life and caused so much stress, is my entire world, now.  There is nothing left anymore.

   “I’ll get going, now.” Chansung says to me and looks once more at the baby, almost with pity.

   I say his name and he halts, looking back at me with those curious brown eyes, like midnight darkness. “Can you watch him again tomorrow?” I ask nervously. “I have to find a job before I can afford daycare.”

   He only hesitates for a moment, but it is long enough to fill my chest with doubt, but he nods and then leaves me.

   I have never felt as alone as I do at this time, the abhorrent moment that I feel my life shatter.

My landlord is standing before me, the crease in his brow and the way he glares at me assures me that he means everything he says when he threatens to have me out by tonight if I do not come up with the money for my lease. The deposit ran out three months ago, but I plead with him for more time. He doesn’t believe me, but I am trying. And though I am already late for work, he doesn’t want me to leave until I give him some money, so I empty the few bills in my wallet and feel my stomach already cursing me for giving away my dinner for the next week.

   But it is not enough to satisfy him. I see the fury welling in his deep red face as he stalks away in a huff of anger.

   A quiet patter of small feet on the floor causes me to look down at the round, wondering eyes that stare up at me. Tiny hands reach up for me, the small fingers opening and closing continually until I bend down and pick him up. I have gotten used to doing everything with one hand, so I grab my keys and wallet off the table before running next door.

   After two knocks, an older woman answers the door. She is small and quaint, soft spoken and rather frail looking but behind her eyes is a fire that hasn’t finished burning. When she sees me, she instantly smiles and reaches for the boy in my arms. “Give him here,” She says as she takes my son without needing permission. “You go to work, I’ll take good care of this little one.”

   “Neh, Halmonie?” She hums when I ask, so enthralled with the act of looking after a baby again that she cannot possibly turn away from the little angel in her arms. “Is Chansung here today?”

   While she clucks her tongue, Mrs. Hwang sends me away, telling me to stop worrying about her grandson. I’m not worrying, though.

   No.

   Obsession is far stronger a feeling than worry.

“You’re late, Ok.” My manager reminds me as I step back behind the counter of the only fast food establishment what would hire me on. “It’s the third time this week.”

   “I’m so sorry Mr. Ahn. It won’t happen again, I promise.” I say mechanically, lifelessly as I put my apron on.

   “Of course it won’t,” For a moment, just one small tiny moment, I breathe out a sigh of relief. Something I haven’t done in so long that it makes me wonder why I had even taken a simple action such as that for granted. It feels good, to finally catch a break, just once. I smile, I smile until I hear my bosses next words. “Today’s your last day. Don’t bother being late tomorrow.”

   He said it loud enough that my fellow employees and even a few customers are now staring at me, watching with concerned eyes as I grip the edge of the counter hard enough to turn my knuckles a pale, lifeless, white color. Part of me wants to lash out, to scream at those watching eyes and curse them all for staring at my misery. But basic necessity keeps me where I am for a moment longer, before I turn, and start working, as if nothing at all had happened.

   The ride home from work is long tonight, exceptionally so. As I sit on the back of the bus, watching the passengers come and go with no notice of my existence here, in this small corner. There is a girl with chestnut colored hair, sitting with her back to me. She is reading a book and I can’t tell what it is, but every so often when she reaches up and pushes back those beautiful thick curls from her face and I can see her slender finger adorned with a wedding ring.

   The bus stops to unload more people and a flashing sign in the night air catches my attention at the corner across from the stop. My eyes wander to the thin band of metal around my own finger. It isn’t much, but it’s the only thing I have left to pawn.

   Before I can give myself time to think it through, I find myself jumping off the bus.

My eyes are filled with mounds and mounds of black plastic bags, overstuffed and piled high in front of the door to my house. In the dark I see things, material things, broken things, things of the past. Just things. I am beginning to hate things. Because they are the cause of destruction, for so many. Things are what drive me, rule my life. The search for things. Obtaining more things.

   The lack of things drove her away from me.

   The pathetic part is that I truly didn’t even want her until she stopped loving me altogether.

   So maybe I am deserving of all these things, my things, bagged up and scattered across the front porch like forgotten memories and unwanted garbage keepsakes. I deserve the key that I try and unlock my front door with to not fit, and the windows to be boarded up – just in case I tried to break in. I deserve it all as I sink to my knees and look at the failure that is my life.

   “Hyung.” He says my name with ease from behind me.

   Ignoring the wet drops on my cheeks, I look at him, take in his figure through the dark, his features contrasted in the moonlight that shines down. His smile is a symbol for that happiness I am looking for. I want it.  To possess it. To hold it. My heart quickens when he nears me. And before he says another word, he leans over me and I close my eyes, surrendering myself to my senses and how aware they are of his presence. His smell, fresh from a hastily taken shower with linger scents of his sweaty workout. His warmth, radiating onto me as he comes so close that he almost touches me, scorches my skin. I open my eyes when the closeness ceases and he is holding one of the bags in each hand.

   “Let’s put this stuff in the garage.” Chansung says after I give him a questioning look. He sighs at my lack of understanding. “You’ll stay with me until you get back on your feet.” He says but there is twinge of uncertainty in his voice that rocks the both of us and tangles us together, like a heavy wave crashing against the side of a cliff, our panic prone eyes collide for a meaningless moment, until as he starts moving my things into the small single-car garage behind his grandmother’s house.

I can feel his quiet breathing next to me. Reminding me of his burning presence. Keeping me awake. Sleeping beside him is like being too close to the sun. Like dreaming. He doesn’t know that I watch him, while he sleeps. I watch his features barely illuminated by the moonlight falling through the open window, his chest rising and falling like a soft tide on the shore.

   He smiles in his sleep, even in darkness it is bright. Chansung’s smile.

   My fingers can’t help themselves, and brush through his hair, a pushing few stray locks away from his face. He moves closer to me and I feel my heart beating painfully as his arm slings lazily at my waist, his face mere inches from mine. I am scared to breathe. After a moment, things calm, and I find the courage to relax into the pillows as his smile softens into a smirk.

   “What are you dreaming about?” I whisper to him in his dreams, hoping for one particular answer and receiving one that makes me question my sanity.

   “You.”

   His eyes open slowly and he looks at me with a subtle fear clouding in those dark irises that I have slowly become addicted to because in this moment, this moment right here, they are everything to me. I am staring at the universe in his eyes. Gravity pulls me to him. Makes me act without any thought of the repercussions because this is what my soul wants. That missing key to unlock the all the secrets of life with one utterly perfect kiss.

   All I feel are his lips and mine.

   Until his hand smoothes over my shoulder, running up my neck and spreading his fingers through my hair like a wildfire taking over a forest. Then I feel his legs twisting into my own and my body becomes very much aware of our closeness.

   “I want you.” I feel his breath against my lips and, for a moment, I am stuck there, looking at his dazed expression in the dark. He kisses me again, sweetly as he repeats. “I want you so bad.” I am hypnotized by the way the words fall from his lips in breathy whispers, full of need and excitement. Like he has dreamed of this, dreamed of me, the way I have him. I feel him press his body against mine and, with his voice still rasp from sleep, he begs the most beautiful words to ever fall upon my ears.

   “Make love to me . . .”

Feels like time has stopped, when I finally push inside of him. The only thing that exists is him. And me. Connected as one, as us. Breathing together. Hearts beating in rhythm with as his grip tightens on my upper arm and I can see his quieted moan rippling through his chest. He shudders beautifully and wraps himself with me, draws me in. Devours me until I am nothing.

   There is no going back from here.

   From the way we lay locked together, tangled into one another we say nothing but kisses. My breath is stolen, but is it truly stealing, when I have submitted freely? As his hands fall to my waist and pull my hips down to him, I faster, the steady rocking pushes the bed and forces his eyes closed tight as a mewling sound falls past his quivering bottom lip. That heat has spread and I am sure that he is most definitely the sun at the center of my existence, shining so painfully bright and setting eternal fire to my body as I sink into him and let go.

   Chansung whispers my name as he es.

   The wet droplets of his release on my stomach smear as I fall down on him and he wraps his arms and legs around me, as if it will stop me from leaving his side. It works. I lay on top of him with my cheek pressed against his chest, just listening to his heartbeat as I watch the curtain sway in the slow night breeze flowing in through the window. He my back with his fingertip and falls asleep first.

   And as I stare at him in the wreckage of our love making, it suddenly hits me. The realization that makes my chest swell with something I had almost forgotten even existed.

    I don’t suppose I could have ever not loved him.

I feel arms sliding around me from behind me as my eyes race over the words printed on the paper in my hand. Chansung digs his chin in my shoulder and I can feel him smiling against me as he tightens his hold on my waist.

   “Is it good news?” He asks and my heart flutters almost but I bite my lip and stay silent, taking this in.

   It’s been over a year and I now know him enough that I’m sure my lack of words is frightening him, he turns me around in his arms so he can look me in the eyes, but I can’t say anything. My lips part but nothing comes out, I can barely breathe yet alone think straight. “Hyung?” My lover cups my face in his hands as if he’s prepared to comfort me.

   “I did it.” I just barely whisper. “I got into University of Seoul–” Before I can finish the words Chansung snatches the paper from me and reads over my college acceptance letter, his eyes bright and bigger than ever when he looks up at me adoringly.

   “I knew you could do it.” He was about to say more but a small body running into his legs accompanied by an excited squeal of the word ‘appa’ makes us both look down and smile. Chansung reaches down and scoops the toddler up in his arms and I find myself staring at the two of them. “Tell your daddy how much you love him, HaNeul-ah! He got into big boy school just for you!”

   “Lub yew daddy.” HaNeul blabbers in a singsong voice as he clutches onto his other ‘appa’ tightly and I laugh, leaning over to kiss the top of his head before placing a soft kiss on Chansung’s lips.

   “I did it for all of us.” I brush the wetness away from the corners of his eyes as he goes on and on about how proud he is of me and how I should have listened to him sooner but I just grin, Chansung’s ‘I told you so’ is just a minor price that comes along with the bliss of ultimate success. What only matters now is this new moment, this new feeling. The relief of finally achieving what you’ve strived for. Reaching that goal you’ve been in pursuit of, through the harshest of times.

   This smallest moment that I am living right here, this is called happiness.