Today, I choose not to remember her.

Of course, I could choose to picture her bright, white smile in my mind. I could choose to envision her flowing blonde hair that falls just below her waist, and I can choose to feel her long yet strong arms wrap around me again just like she did three years ago. I have the decision to paint her entirety at the back of my eyelids again; even now, I can still remember her tiny waist in which I could rub my thumbs against, her fingertips that would brush the hair away from my face, the sound of her laughter dancing around our apartment and filling it up with even more brightness that there already was. I could choose to just... remember her again.

But the memory of her hurts more than ever.

I swear to God, the more I remember her, the more physical pain I can feel. Every time that clock ticks, it only tells me that I'm missing another moment without her. Time is telling me that she has forgotten about me, has she forgotten about me? I certainly haven't forgotten about her. Every second that she misses, I'm forced to face the fact that there are people forgetting her, that I may be forgetting about her, too. I don't want to forget, but as I am remembering one aspect of her, another feature of hers fades away. I swear I could remember my name coming out of , but her voice is tainted and sounds nothing like her anymore. I'm starting to lose the feeling of her fingertips against mine and I hate hate hate it. I promised her that I wouldn't forget her, and if she knew that she is gradually being erased from my memory, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't live with myself knowing I hurt her again.

But, then, like every time I start to worry about forgetting her, I come back to the decision I face with every time I wake up. I could be faced with the pain once more, even if the pain feels so so so good sometimes, or I could just let the hands of the clock drag me through another twenty-four hours, just so I can wake up and do it all over again.

I could remember her, or I don't remember her.

As I make my decision today to place her at the side of my memory, I wince and I look up towards the ceiling again.

I think to myself

and to her

and in my silence, I whisper,

"I'm sorry, Soojung."

¿

I'm about five seconds away from rear ending the slowpoke in front of me.

There are many things that interfere on my day to day routine. My job as a photographer requires me to be in my headquarters in the city at precisely ten o'clock sharp, no exceptions. And yet, there are plenty of things in this world that just want to make my commute even worse. For example, I could be faced with an elderly woman trying to cross the street or there could be way too many red lights that halt my steady cruise.

Today, I am faced with a common enemy: traffic.

The palm of my hand furiously presses the horn on my steering wheel, my lips turning into a scowl as I will myself not to flip the bird towards the guy in front of me. I have a very short temper and I can burst out very easily on almost anything in front of me. Soojung hated that about me, and I tried to change that for her but --

The memory of a heated argument with her pops up in my mind and my palm stops abruptly over the steering wheel, the colors and the screams and the pain of that day all coming back to me in an instant. Regret fills my heart again and my foot eases off the gas pedal slowly. I look around, and all I can see... is her tears, her cries, her meltdown in front of me. I think once again of all the different things I could've said to her so that I wouldn't have to lose her again, so I wouldn't have to forget her so easily.

This wasn't my decision today. I wasn't going to remember her again.

I think I miss her again.

I think I am going insane.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I'm forced to pick up my pieces once again and return to reality. I'm back in the street and there are people honking their horns behind me and I sigh, putting my foot on the gas pedal again. I inch the convertible forward again and stop, and when I look up, I see that the headquarters only a few blocks away. My eyes shift towards the clock and I curse under my breath; I'm twenty minutes late. I already know who's on the other end of the line - Kim Jongin, a.k.a. my best friend/boss who is probably going to kill me at any moment right now. I breathe out a silent prayer and press 'answer'.

Immediately, I cringe at the loud voice screaming from my speakers.

"Dude!" Jongin shouts. In the background, I can hear his hand waving papers back and forth in frustration. "Where the hell are you? Do you realize what today is? This is not leaving the greatest impression on our client right now!"

I curse under my breath again. Jongin and I are supposed to meet a client from one of the biggest names in the magazine industry right now and show them the pictures we had both taken for their photo shoot, and me being twenty minutes late is, as Jongin said, not leaving the greatest first impression at the moment. I sigh, and I speak.

"Sorry, man. Traffic is not doing me justice right now." I turn left at the intersection and drive towards the employee's parking lot. "I'm just about to park right now."

"Well, you better make it quick. Chairman Yang is in the employee's lounge right now, making really awkward small talk with Sehun."

"But Sehun is the worst with strangers."

"That's what makes it so awkward. Are you here yet or what?"

I fumble out of the car door and race towards the double doors, nearly slamming into a light post in the process. My hand pushed through the glass doors and my feet hurriedly made their way up the staircase towards the third floor, my panting evident in my voice. "I'm -- in the -- building -- almost -- ugh, there -- God, I am really out of shape."

"C'mon, run faster, you pig. I'm hanging up." The line went dead.

I couldn't help but think that Soojung would be laughing at me right now. She'd probably be at my side or behind me, pushing me up the stairs, telling me that I probably shouldn't have eaten so much rice this morning --

I sigh heavily, erase the thought of her one more time, and make my way to the meeting.

¿

Blue turns to black, and before I know it, night has already laid its stars in the sky. My stomach rumbles and I remember that I haven't had any lunch this afternoon; I've been too busy preparing for the stupid meeting. I'm starving.

Huh. Soojung really would scold me if she heard the growl coming from my stomach - 

Jongin's laugh cuts through my distracted thoughts, and Soojung's pout evaporates before my eyes. I turn my head to the left and see one hand heartily clapping me on the back as the other maneuvers around the streets of downtown Seoul. The memory of today comes back to me; I'm hungry, and because of this Jongin happily suggested to drive me to the nearest convenience store for some old fashioned ramen-in-a-cup to celebrate our success in the meeting today. I was too tired - tired from the memory of Soojung - to refuse and I blindly went along.

I smile as Jongin compliments my sophisticated attitude and how impressed he was seeing how professional I was despite my delays. I joke around with him, teasing him about his over-the-top enthusiasm. I continue to do this over and over again to make myself believe that I'm happy, to convince myself that I can still survive another day living like this.

And yet, I can barely remember the things that are being said. The dialog is slipping from my mind like the memory of Soojung's smile. As I perform my routine every single day, I find that it's getting harder to even smile like a normal person. Everything feels so forced as if the words that come out of my mouth have been rehearsed and perfected by a script. I no longer feel happiness or sadness or even anger. Just... numb.

Jongin and I arrive at the convenience store and I breathe a sigh of relief; I swear I was just about to mentally break down again. In a hurry, I tell Jongin that I'll just grab the ramen cups and we'll eat in the car. I nod, plaster a smile on my face, and close the car door before I can hear a sliver of his answer. My shaky footsteps head straight towards the illuminated glass door and I enter the store.

Immediately, I feel that something is wrong. 

Something that feels like venom settles into my stomach and my eyes dart wildly around the store, searching for the cause of my unease. For a second, I feel as if my emotions are just toying around with me as I see that everything is normal. The cashier is blindly scanning each item; high school girls are gossiping in the back of the store; a man is a suit is calmly chewing on triangle kimbap by the door. There is the sound of faint trot music playing over my head that annoys me just like it does every time I go into a convenience store. As I make my way to the opposite side of the ramen aisle, this indescribable feeling grows even stronger and I sigh in frustration. 

But then, I see her.

Through an opening between the shelves, I see her gaze cast downwards with her eyebrows furrowed and her lip bitten. Her eyes are filled with a whirl of emotions. So many are locked in one gaze that even I can't decipher the code within them. Locks of blonde hair frame her face eyelashes cheekbones and they all come together to form a seamless whole. Her hair falls over her shoulders and I remember caressing those same locks. When her delicate fingers wrap around one flaming red ramen cup, I wrap my fingers around a ramen packet. I move my eyes with her and I move my body with her. I can't keep my eyes off of her. Even at this moment, when I feel so far apart from her, I feel that we are in sync with one another again; we have become one again.

Just like three years ago.

Three years ago, I fell in love with Jung Soojung. And she fell in love with me.

Three years later, I am still in love with Jung Soojung.

I don't know if she still loves me.

Soojung seems like she has made her decision and walks away from the aisle, all without noticing me. For once, I am rooted to my spot and the only thing I can do is watch her; I even ignore the buzzing of my phone in my pocket. The corners of my lips curl up in a slight smile as I see her fascination with the beeping of the cashier, the curiosity evident in her expression as she hands over a few bills. Her unsure steps makes it look like she hasn't been out in days and I find that absolutely adorable. My eyes skim over her poised posture, her crossed legs, the way her hair sways as she moves her hair behind her shoulders. This Soojung matches the Soojung that has lived in my memories for the past three years, the Soojung that has haunted my being for the past three years. This longing that reaches out from inside me tells me that, yes, I have missed her, so much to the point that I can't even breathe.

Suddenly, Soojung drops her chopsticks and her head starts thrashing about wildly as if something is possessing her. Her pupils have dilated and her eyes dart around the store. From my vantage point, my heart catches in my throat and for the second time, I wish that I can help her, hold her, be with her but all I can do is stare as she writhes around in pain.

I'm on the verge of running over to her when she finally turns around. Her eyes lock with mine and

time

stops.

Recognition struggles to settle on her face as her eyes shrink back to her original size. Her hair falls back onto her shoulders, her lips purse into a straight line, and all she does for several painfully slow moments is just stare at me.

Even in her most vulnerable state, Soojung is still the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

A voice in my mind tells me that I should go sit next to her, and that is exactly what I do. Carefully, cautiously, without breaking my intense gaze, I make my way over to Soojung and slowly sit in the seat next to her. Up close, her hazel eyes still shine but fear has tainted her flecks of gold and yet, I can't tear my eyes away from hers.

Surprisingly, Soojung is the first to speak. 

"Are you... Lee Taemin?"

She remembers my name. 

"Yes."

Silence. Then Soojung speaks again.

"Do you know me?"

More than anyone else in this world.

"Yes."

Silence. Then I speak once more.

"Do you remember me?"

I wince, willing her to say something other than what's on my mind, but I know what the answer will be. 

Please say yes.

"No."

No.