I sat at the table. Taking in the comfort of a good stew and the silence between us. Neither of us spoke about last night. That in its own tiny manner was a bliss of ignoring. I bask under this artificial lighting. Oh the face glows. Oh the avoidance. What a brilliant mix. I left the polished bowls in her sink. The moment she stood beside me and took the initiation to wash the soap off the bowl, I sighed. 

'I know you don't want to talk about it. We graduated together. I know you. You know me. Somewhere in your head, you do understand that it may be PTSD. Somewhere behind your stubborn outlook, you know you need someone.' She paused for a moment. Placing the wet bowls by the side to dry. She didn't face me. 'And in a weird way, maybe she is still the one who you seek. However with everything that is to occur, I feel the need to state this. I disapprove of anything that has to do with her. I cleaned you up. Fixed your meals like this mornings, I am enforcing you to acknowledge that my stance on this matter matters.' 

Although I understood where she was coming from, I kept silent. 'You may lock up when you are done. I have a meeting.' with that she concluded our talk. I lied on her sofa, legs dangaling by the side. Hearing the door shut, the locks turned, I'm the prisoner. My head knowing that whatever she said wasn't wrong. She had a right. The one who pick me up time and time again. The one who saw my darkness. If Tiffany was the sun that chased away every speck of darkness in me, Soonkyu was that one star that was willing to be engulfed in my night.

Taking out my phone, I key in your number. Looking at the digits I had so effortlessly recalled, I wondered, 'how are you?' Without anyone on the line, I earned the coldness of silence as my reply. Winter be damned. The 9th December this is. Is it really such a special number that I am to greet you once more. I sat up. Spacing out at the television that displayed a blank screen. I decided I should leave. there are lectures to be prepared for. 

The air a little too chilly as my insides craved for a bowl of red bean with shaved ice. Walking among the crowd, taking those shaky steps as time went by without any personal touch. The snow slowly drabble at its own pace while I kept following the face of my watch. Another second, another minute and soon another day wrapped up into a neat bow. With more rounds, the earth would have completed one full rotation. 

I ceased my walking. Too abrupt was my action as the Uncle who had bumped into me, cursed a crisp . Like time, I simply watch him dash by. Everyone seems to be moving fast. Panning across the entire surrounding, earning more curses, gaining some puzzled faces, I noticed a fact. The fact that everyone seemingly have somewhere. So as I remain still, my mind ponders where do I need to go?

Christmas lightings for the year shine, making the night sky overly bedazzled. I guess the majority counts december's budget base on christmas decorative expenditure. I count the laspe in you not being here. No longer do I sigh at the aspect of remembering us. I just silently acknowledge the splint inside. Blinking once, my eyes proceeded to track one particular snowflake. Watching as it slowly decends against its wishes and adhering to Sir Issac's theory on gravity. 

To fall due to nature, to forge a relationship through nurture, to hold significance on an other, it makes sense that landing on the cold truth hurts. When my own logic drew a full stop, I walked on. Another idiot sticking with December's oxymorons.