We've been told that our lives would flash before our eyes before we died. In my experience, it didn't. I wouldn't be able to be alive enough to tell, of course, being dead and all -- I strongly felt the urge to add 'duh' but that would not be appropriate and therefore I refrained myself from saying so.

Well, I didn't know if I was surely most definitely going to die (although I kind of saw it coming), but if I was, I didn't have those hazy slide show of images from my life, which they said I should have (but again, no one alive could be dead enough to tell -- the urge to say 'duh' was so strong in this one.)

I didn't see myself being born to the world nor did I see myself growing up, riding my first bike, having my first kiss, or lying in the hospital bed dying. Some memories of my life popped up, though. I was fully aware that everything should have happened in mere seconds -- pretty sure that my aneurysm burst and so I was dying rather fast. It should not be a slow, matter of hours or days or months process, but to me it felt like a lifetime (no pun intended). I felt as if I was in a high-definition dream, in which I was only an observer and was not a part of it. I was an outsider who didn't get to choose which part I wanted or didn't want to see. I was watching a movie: this was the closest I could get to describe it. Yes, it's better to imagine it like that.

I was watching the movie of my life, sitting on one of those red velvet theater seats, maybe holding my favorite theater treats; nachos with melting cheese on top, and a medium-sized Sprite with extra ice. I didn't watch it 'watch it', because my eyes were probably closed as my body was shutting down, but my brain was processing everything incredibly fast yet graceful that all was running very smoothly and vividly.

I didn't get to see the baby version of me in my sky-blue crib, but that was not a matter because I got to re-live the most precious times of my life. Pieces of my last eight years slid one after another, reminding me of my valuable past. It was not a surprise that Jongin was almost in all of those images/memories/slides.

Eight years ago, when I was sixteen, I got to know a cocky senior by the name Kim Jongin, who then happened to be the one I deeply loved.

***

New students were arranged to have a senior mentor during the first-half semester. After the inauguration ceremony for new students, we were collected in a group of eight, and a mentor was assigned for us. Ours was Jongin.

When I first saw him, I thought Jongin was that typical popular kid who got famous of their outgoing personality, loved by many because of their I-am-so-cool-and-smart charm. I was kind of the opposite -- I was quite smart but I didn't own that lovable aura Jongin had.

I would be lying if I said Jongin was not a good mentor. I could tell that most of my schoolmates adored -worshipped- him. I felt indifferent toward him; I didn't like or dislike Jongin. To me, he was just one of those seniors who were playful and nice to us, a bunch of nervous newbies. But thanks to Jongin, I got to learn how to open Facebook despite our school's policy that limited internet usage. (I had been through that phase when I used most of my recess times playing Pet Society and Farm Ville on Facebook. Boy I was rich.)

***

Jongin was always surrounded by a huge crowd of his jock friends, who in my mind looked alike one to another (muscles, great looks and all), talked and dressed in the exact same way. Oh God, Jongin was like a member of a famous boyband.

Sometimes, during the recess time, I saw him and his friends playing soccer at the field. I didn't fancy watching a group of sweaty males running after one dirty ball, and so most of the time I simply would ignore them and continue reading my detective novel, or eating my lunch, or playing my Facebook games.

That day, I was about to get up from the bench I was sitting on when my eyes caught the ruined flower bed by the field. Someone seemingly had played their ball rather too enthusiastically (this sounded wrong), and in falling on the flower bed, the ball had destroyed the plants.

"Those scoundrels," I hissed. (I was reading a historical novel so I cursed rather British-ish.)

Getting up, I quickly rushed to the flower bed. I felt like crying. There was that dirty ball on it. Poor, poor innocent souls, I grumbled as I tried to fix the catastrophe they made the best that I could. Talking to them, I convinced the wounded flower plants not to lose to those brats who had ruined their pretty petal dresses. They had to take their revenge by growing strongly. "You're all sweet, but so is revenge," I mumbled to encourage them.

Afterward, I left the flower bed, feeling that I had done my good deed for that day.

Jongin was amongst those jocks who played at the field, which only convinced me more that he was no different than the rest of his friends.

***

I didn't see pass Jongin's High-School-Musical-slash-Glee-popular-type-like-kid persona for weeks after, but when I finally was able to see him wholly, Jongin's uniqueness, his quirkiness and silliness, all showed up one by one, and I was attracted to this new-found side of him and was hooked by it.

Jongin had his way to charm and attract people. A school mate of mine --fellow mentoree-- shyly asked him to pose when she found out that he was once a catalogue model for a famous online shop.

Jongin smiled gallantly, and I swore the girl was about to faint when he threw her a naughty wink. Confidently, he acted as if to adjust his shirt and posed, as if he was in a catalogue shot. He tugged on his shirt collar and posed, aiming his piercing gaze to the girl.

I heard a weak help-I'm-about-to-faint cry coming from the girl.

"I prefer dancing than modelling," Jongin said with a laugh after his little demonstration, knowing perfectly that his mentorees would be asking him to show them his moves.

He dances. Does he sing too? I stifled a giggle imagining him being in a boyband group, dancing ily as he threw a wink here and there to woo his pre-pubescent fangirls. I raised my head and saw Jongin looking at me. 'I got busted,' I thought. I offered him a small guilty smile.

Jongin asked anyone of us to give him 'music with sick beat', and I didn't know who then provided him with one (the 'movie' was kind of blurry on this part), but not long, I heard a dance song playing.

Jongin made a little walk, forward and back, I guessed to absorb the music and feel the beat. He seemed to have a good sense of rhythm and tempo, because after only a few seconds he began to move. Slowly swiveling his hips left and right, front and back, his body moved along with the rhythm of the music. The music's beat got 'sicker', and so did Jongin. I didn't know how, but he could perfectly follow every beat and thump, as if he had been doing the moves for that particular song his whole life. Jongin was like... a member of a boyband group.

I had to pinch myself not to laugh.

Jongin's fans' gasps brought my attention back to the 'stage'. Oh. This song or maybe it was just Jongin had a lot of provocative pelvis moves. Along with some particular thumps, Jongin shifted his weight and powerfully forward. I heard someone weakly cry. And, oh, another pelvis . One or two of Jongin fangirls or fanboys would collapse at this rate. What's with the pelvis spree?

And who on earth would want to name a song 'Call Me Baby'?

Finally the music stopped. Jongin surely was good at ing I meant dancing. I looked around and saw my fellow mentorees catching their breaths after all the gasps and cries. Some were lying limp on the floor, another ones fanning their flushing faces. I shifted my eyes and accidentally looked at Jongin's lower part as he straightened his body up. I choked. Because of his powerful s I meant dance moves his tight pants were ripped in the crotch area. I bit my lips not to laugh.

"What do you think of my dance moves, Kyungsoo?" Jongin asked me. He smiled broadly at me, looking blissfully unaware of his wardrobe malfunction.

"They... They ripped," I choked. "My heart," I managed to add through my gritted teeth to save myself. "I-I am sorry, hyung. Can I... Can I go now?"

Jongin looked at me, genuine concern on his face. "Of course. Are you okay?"

I couldn't bring myself to say anything and so I shook my head and turned around, laughing my off when I sensed I was far enough.

That afternoon I saw Jongin walking with his friends, wearing a loose pair of training pants. I thought I almost died laughing.

Jongin could be so silly he was endearingly adorable. (He walked the fine line between immensely cute and blazing hot, he once told me. Tch. I agreed.)

After that day, I was starting to be able to see Jongin behind his layers of persona. None of his characteristics was fake; each of them was what Jongin really was. He was this alpha-machismo male who sometimes acted like a silly kid and smiled like one.

I kind of started to like seeing his smile and the way his eyes crinkle when he laughed, and then I began to really, really like seeing his smile and the way his eyes crinkle when he laughed. Before I knew, I had fallen for him.

After all the silly stuff he did when I was around, I had a feeling that Jongin might like me back. And yes, he did. The day when he asked me to be his boyfriend was one of the happiest days of my life -- later I found out that every day with Jongin was the happiest day of my life.

***

We had been dating for a few months when Jongin asked me to go somewhere with him after school.

"This won't be a long ride," he told me when our bus arrived.

Three stops later, Jongin wrapped his hand around mine and led me to get off the bus. We walked down the pedestrian street, talking about small things we did at school that day. Leading the way, he took a stroll across a zebra crossing. We walked for a few more blocks before Jongin quickened his walk and stopped rather abruptly. "Kyungsoo, look! Babies!" He exclaimed with enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled when he spoke to me.

I was confused. I didn't see anyone with babies around. Before I could say anything Jongin had dragged me inside a store, in which happy barking dogs, meowing kittens, and chirping birds, were welcoming us as we got in. My confusion deepened.

"What cute babies you guys are!" Jongin squeaked, rushing to a cage that was shown in front of the pet shop. "I want you to help me finding some presents for my kids, Kyungsoo. They are turning two next week," he said in between his cooing baby-talk sound.

"Your... kids?" I deadpanned.

"Jjanggu and Jjang-ah. Actually they are my sister's, but I love them like my own."

"Jongin, I don't think we can do that," I hissed nervously when Jongin opened the cage and carefully took a brownish puppy out. Jongin didn't seem to listen to me. He put the happy puppy in his arms as if he was holding a newborn baby, rubbing the puppy's cheeks against his and kissing its tummy in fervor.

"J-Jongin." I looked around to see if anyone watching, but it was hard to do so. My range of sight was limited because of all the pet cages and aisles of pet food, vitamins, and accessories.

"She is a toy poodle, Kyungsoo. Three months old, aren't you kiddo?" Jongin cooed the puppy that was his cheek energetically.

"Three and a half," answered someone from behind the counter by the exit door. "Don't mind Jongin," the man said to me. "He's a regular here. Crazy regular. Let him do whatever he wants."

"Yo, hyung!"

A tall, curly blond haired male waved at Jongin and I. "It's the first time I see you bring someone here beside your sister."

Jongin grinned. "My boyfriend, hyung," he presented me proudly.

"Good for you, kid!" The cheerful man behind the counter raised his thumb up, and Jongin threw his puppy-less arm into the air, his two fingers made a 'V' sign.

Jongin could be so embarrassing sometimes.

"What about this, Kyungsoo?" Jongin lifted two animal costumes; a piglet and a baby bear jumpsuits. "These ones should be comfortable enough for my kids."

I never knew that people were willing to dress their pets to this extend. I hoped Jongin was joking.

"I bought Jjang-ah and Jjanggu the Avengers costumes for their last birthday."

No, he's not joking.

"You'll look adorable in onesie pajamas like this," Jongin said to me, gesturing at the soft pink piglet jumpsuit in his hand. "Cute bushy tail is a must," he added solemnly.

"Maybe I will give you one for your birthday."

"If you don't put that thought away, maybe I will hurt you," I warned my boyfriend.

I convinced Jongin to buy his children something more useful, such as dog kennel or dog carrier, and after discussing the pros and cons, he finally agreed with my reasons.

"Kyungsoo! This one is cool."

After wandering through the aisles Jongin walked toward me with something in his hand, which he efficiently wore to demonstrate his coolness point. "This is a front-facing dog carrier, this way we can carry our kids 'baby style' on our front, with their paws facing outward. Maybe I should buy you one, so we can hold hands and babysit the children at the same time."

"You're a fool," I concluded dazedly.

Jongin wound his arm around my shoulder and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Your fool."

I nodded firmly. "Mine."

***

"You're a fool."

I had said this particular sentence numerous times for years by then. I didn't remember why I said that to my husband that night, but I guessed it was because some silly stuff Jongin said or did, as usual.

I yawned. Snuggling into his arms, I let his body warmed mine. When Jongin was with me and our bodies were touching, I tended to drift off to sleep easier. The beat of his heart and his whispering lips were my lullaby songs.

"Your fool," Jongin replied, as always.

I nodded with a fake helpless sigh. "My fool."

This was supposedly a secret, but I loved watching him sleep. Jongin practically could sleep anywhere and anytime, marvelously fast. I counted once; two minutes after his head touched the pillow, he was out like a light.

Sometimes Jongin would scrunch up his eyes, rubbing the back of his hand against them as he whined in his sleep. Jongin was too adorable.

That night he caught me staring at him. He lazily grinned and pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arms around my body. "Mm," he mumbled, rubbing his cheek against mine.

Apparently Jongin was still in his half-asleep state. "I swear, Jongin. Sometimes I feel that you treat me like you treat a dog," I murmured.

Jongin hummed, his eyes were closed and the corners of his lips were raised into a broad silly grin. "Maltese. Cute three months old baby Maltese," he decided contentedly, tightening his hold on me.

"My Maltese."

"Jongin, stop," I pretended to scold him, knowing that it would only make him hold me tighter.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear. He was about to dive into his deep sleep, I knew.

"Love you too." To the moon and back.

***

The scene switched suddenly. Oh dear. I had come to the not-so-enthralling part of my movie.

I became like this because I might suffer a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. There was less than 5 percent of general population had or would develop aneurysm in various degrees, and less than 3 percent of the number might suffer from bleeding. (I guessed I kind of hit the jackpot.)

Actually, my MRA screening showed that my aneurysm was not too large, 12 mm, spindle shaped without distinct neck, in my posterior cerebral artery. Doctor Cho, my neurosurgeon mentor who later also became my consultant doctor, suggested me to have a cerebral angiogram to fully map the plan of therapy. A surgery was likely needed, he told me.

In that first minute I was perplexed, confused, and scared, drowning in the emotional fall-out of thinking that I had this rare and could be fatal disease I had only known from books before.

All those self-pity feelings faded when I thought about Jongin.

Jongin. What should I say to him?

***

I was in the kitchen, looking at the stack of papers on the counter. My eyes searched for a certain point on it, which stated that if I am closed to death and life support would only postpone  my moment of death, I want no life support.

I always wanted Jongin to remember me as the person he loved, and not some invalid guy who lived under the mercy of others. I couldn't bear to have his love for me fading away day after day. Jongin wouldn't understand my reason, he would snap. And yes, I was being a coward. To talk to him about it would break his heart and mine.

I thought about Jongin, and our days together. If he was me, and he was in the same situation as mine, deciding his life without telling me, I would hate him for not giving me more time to be with him longer. I wouldn't know if I could get out of the dreadful feeling I would have felt for having to let him die before my eyes because a damn piece of paper obliged me to do so. I would go crazy thinking and re-thinking as to why he did that to me and to himself. I didn't want him to be like that.

I had given him my life years ago: hence I would trust him with everything I had to make the decision for me. For us.

Praying that I had made the right decision, I grabbed the paper and crumpled it into a tiny ball. Turning on the stove, I tossed the paper into the fire and watched it burn. I sighed. I collected the rest of the documents, saved them inside a drawer, and locked it. (That day I submitted the papers to the hospital and consulted Doctor Cho about my upcoming surgery.)

I knew I had to tell Jongin at some point, but every time I saw him smile, my tongue got tied and my mouth was shut. I didn't want to ruin his happiness. I still had time, I thought. Besides, I just needed to have that tiny little balloon inside my head to protect the troubled artery. I was making a big deal out of nothing.

With that in mind, I pushed away the matter. I would tell Jongin later, I convinced myself. For now, Jongin deserved to have the breakfast he loved.

***

Finally I finished running over my patient list with the day team. Last night was quite a hectic night; there were six new neurology patients, and so to give brief descriptions about their history and vital signs, their lab results, events of the night, and consultant recommendations, was a tiring process.  But for now my works was done and I would get to come back home.

I looked around the Emergency Department. They said Baekhyun was here, but I didn't see him anywhere. I just left him for a few seconds and he had gone like a puff of smoke. That brat. I sat at the desk interns often used to have a few minutes rest and laid my head against the back of my seat.

My phone beeped. Jongin, I thought. I checked my watch; it's 9.05 A.M, which meant he was 5 minutes late. He's getting slow.

I chuckled, fishing out my phone out of my pocket.

Jongin's cheesy stuff for today read: "You are one in a million. What the heck are you doing amongst a million of people?! Don't you know how hard it is to find the tiny you? Get back to my heart now, STAT, or I'll dive into that million people and drag you home myself."

Jongin's being a little more creative today, and thus the extra cheese. I couldn't hold the smile on my face. I felt the need to quickly reply his stuff-of-the-day and tell him how lovingly cheesy his message was, but I should not break the tradition. Jongin should get his reply at nine past forty five -- past fifty if I felt like being mean.

This was indeed a good love letter, a super good one. Right now I most probably was wearing a silly grin on my face.

I brought my phone with me whenever I went so I could re-read Jongin’s love letters whenever I was thinking about him, which was practically every time and for example now. Forty minutes or maybe forty five minutes I had to endure before replying his message was a long time to wait; I might as well read some cheesy stuff I loved too much.

Running through my phone inbox, I randomly read the content: "Your cactuses are missing you. I'm missing you. Have you watered them yesterday before you left? Have you showered me enough love? Because I feel like I haven't got enough of it. I would never have enough of you. I love you."

I smiled. Jongin, you're a fool. Didn't you know already? You could only water your cactus plants once every two weeks. I swore you would kill all my precious plants throughout my absence if I left you even for just a few days.

"What are you doing, Kyungsoo?" Baekhyun, my fellow intern, called me from behind and peeked over at me. I had searched for him everywhere and now here he was, emerging seemingly out of the thin air when I was not searching for him.

"Nothing," I said, slipping my phone back into my pocket. "Just reading some cheesy stuff from some fool guy I know."

My fool.

"I'm so gonna tell your husband," Baekhyun threatened me with a cheeky grin, plopping his body on the seat next to mine.

"No, you're not." I grabbed his hand and pressed the red code pager against his palm. I searched for him all morning just to forward this tiny little gadget to him.

"How's your night?" He asked me, slipping the pager into his white coat's pocket.

"Sleep was overrated," I glumly said. "You can take a breath of relief. All of our patients are stable."

"You are a godsend," Baekhyun exclaimed with a dramatic sigh, wiping the non-existence tears off his face. He was weird, as expected from the man who insisted to wear his white coat over his scrubs because he said it made him feel relevant.

"Stop that, I'm going," I scolded him with a small smile. Just when I finished saying that, the Emergency Room's door slid opened and someone was rushed inside. "We got an accident victim!"

Baekhyun quickly got up from his seat and as did I. "I'll help you," I said.

The patient had been stabilized, but he was in a bad shape. Complete quadriplegia due to spinal cord injury. His blood pressure was sky-high, and he's having a high fever.

Baekhyun urged me to leave, waving his hand as if to shoo away a persistent insect. He told me that he would fill the patient's chart and wait for the chief resident to arrive. Grinning at him, I made a 'V' sign.

I was about to reach for my messenger bag when that happened.

The pain was unbearable; its suddenness got me breathless. It was as if I was having the worst thunderclap inside my head. I couldn't move. My ears were ringing, my neck was stiff and the pain, oh God I couldn't feel anything but pain. I thought my head would burst open. I didn't know if it was possible, but with each intake of breathing it got worse. I saw a glimpse of someone running toward me, shouting, before I lost my consciousness. Baekhyun, I thought in that fraction of second.

The excruciating pain gradually was gone. Maybe the morphine they must have injected into my vein was starting to take effect, but I liked to think it was because at that time, I was thinking about Jongin.

***

I really would be spending the rest of my life with Jongin, and instantly I felt that it was not enough. Eight years was not enough.

I was being greedy, I knew. Eight years, twenty years, fifty years, was not the matter. Time was not the matter, because with Kim Jongin, even a lifetime would never be enough.

My life was blessed, I wouldn’t want to change any part of it. Every day I was thankful. Today I was thankful. To meet Jongin was a blessing. If there was one thing I could wish, it was for me to have said that I loved him a million times more. I didn't say it enough, and looking at right now, I kind of regretted it. My time was running, and I hated to think that I might leave without Jongin understood that I loved, really really loved him that I felt like my heart was twisting up inside my chest every time I thought about him.

I hoped... I hoped he would be okay without me. I didn't want him to be lonely, and so he should move on with his life. I wanted him to be happy, he ought to be happy. If by finding another love was the way to make him feel that way, so be it. To think about it made my body -or soul or mind or little neurons left- boil with jealousy, but by that time I wouldn't be around. And Jongin still had a life to live.

My mind was getting dull. I was holding an empty Sprite paper cup, and I had eaten all my crunchy nachos. The movie of my life had finished since a while ago and now I was rambling by myself. I was getting tired. I imagined I was closing my eyes as I grabbed an image of Jongin smiling at me. Ah. This was Heaven. Maybe I should have a little rest now. I could hear Jongin whispering his love for me. I love you too, Jongin, I wished you could hear my voice. I loved you so, so much. But you had known that already, right?

I loved you to the moon and back.

..............................................................................................................................................................................