The pain of someone you love more than life itself leaving is the worst type of pain that can possible be inflicted on anyone. Having to feel the suffering of possible never seeing that person again, never looking them in eyes, never even hearing their voice again. If you're lucky, maybe you'll run into that love somewhere, and all those memories will flood your mind again. For just moment, it'll be like their still yours, that nothing even changed. 

But then you wake up. You remember that there was reason they left with just those memories. Memories only remain so that they can remind you of what is lost, what you can never get back. Memories you can't hold, kiss, speak to, simply even touch, they're intangible. The beauty and pain of those memories is untouchable and they can't be tainted no matter how hard you try. The person in the memory will always hold a place in your mind even though their face is one you'll never see again. As if they was swept up by the wind or washed away with the rain. And as hard as you try to chase the wind or drive away the rain, it's all meaningless. 

Once left all alone, we began to pick up the pieces. Some faster and messier than others. We change, we adapt, and we start to created new versions of ourselves to cope with the sudden loss. We just pray and try like hell to make out new selves will be better than our last self. There are some though, who put off trying to make themselves better. Those who want to dwell on the past. Maybe it's because they want pity. Or maybe it's fear. Fear of change. Fear of letting go. Some avoid it, because honestly, not matter how hard you try to deny it, the truth hurts. 

Then again, maybe we're just destined to be alone. 

Do Kyungsoo knew for a fact that he was destined to be alone. Maybe it was his curse or punishment for breaking the rules.  His penalty for falling from grace, plucking away every last little feather and carelessly tossing them aside. Kyungsoo gave up his perfectness to become something scuffed, broken, and full of blemishes. And all for what? Some creature of the same horrible species that stole the organ just below his neck? What did the humans call the beating object again? That, he could not recall. 

"Large tripe shot americano for a Do Kyungsoo." It was crowded that morning, as it is everyday. Something about going to a café in the mornings made him feel less insignificant than he already felt. At he knew for that day, somebody knew his name. Probably didn't care, but they knew his name even if for a mere few seconds. The only thing that puzzled him was why humans flocked to this so-called "Coffee Houses" when they could make their own coffee at their house for free. He'd seen the machines that made coffee in the homes of his colleagues, most looking dusty and unused. Kyungsoo would get one, but he'd need mugs. And having mugs in your house makes it seem like you have attachments to something. He can't explain it, but he just would feel too pressured if he owned mugs. 

Attachments were forbidden in his rules. The second you formed attachments, the second you make your first memory, that's when the cracks form. In the beginning stages they're small, unnoticeable to everyone. As time continues to fly past, the attachments grow bigger, memories bigger, as do the cracks. By this point, most people can see them, and only the two that are cracked don't see them. Denial is the name of the game. You deny how close you are to shattering. Deny that those memories mean nothing. Deny that when those attachments are snatched right out of your hands that you'll be absolutely fine. 

Cracks grow, and grow, and grow. Until one day, could be big, could be small, but something gets throw and it all shatters. Many common events that cause the destruction are fights, your love leaving a mess, or even being late to work because you couldn't find the keys. Although Kyungsoo has seen all, he belonged to a very special category; the category of losing a love to death. Not many fall here, or at least he hadn't met many you were categorized with him. 

It all happened in slow motion. One day, his love couldn't remember where he left the remote; it was in the refrigerator. The next, his love didn't even know who Kyungsoo was. He just woke up one morning to a whole different person, someone who Kyungsoo had never met before. It was tumor, a tumor giving Kyungsoo's love a month and a half. A period of which that man in the bed Kyunhsoo spent everyday next to didn't even know his name or where he was. It was raining that day, he remembers holding his hand and feeling it go limp gradually. The color in his face leaving, the breath lungs halting. Then came the grotesque sound of the machine adjacent to the bed, signaling that death had taken him. 

The streets were just as filled with people as they always were. People coming and going, not even sparing at short glance towards him. Maybe the blackish circles around his eyes drew people away. Whatever it was, people must've thought it was ominous. It was contradictory to everything he believed in, but Kyungsoo desperately wanted someone to talk to him, ask him how he was. If they did, he'd say 'fine' like he always did. But how many times do we have to say we're fine before people stop believing it? We say we're fine in the hopes that someone will notice we're not fine. We want someone to know we're not fine, and for them to actually care. He doubted anyone would care for him. 

It wasn't until Kyungsoo was almost to work when he noticed that a tall man in an oversized coat was following him. Probably not following, just coincidently going the same way as him. The man didn't seem scared or suspicious, in fact he smiled when Kyungsoo turned around to see if he was still there. 

"What the do you want?! I'm trying to have a somewhat pleasant day, and you're making it really hard!" Kyungsoo didn't know how he automatically started yelling, it just sort of happened subconsciously. In response to the short boy, the taller just smiled even wider. 

"I need a book for one of my classes and I was just walking this way. Do you work there?" His voice was deep and husky, which alas didn't impress Kyungsoo. 

"Why couldn't you just come in the afternoon like a normal person?!" In his blind rage, Kyungsoo lowered his head, which promptly caused his round spectacles to slide off his nose. And before he could catch them, the noise of shattered glass confirmed their new location. "Look what you made me do!" He bent down, blind as a bat, and searched the sidewalk for his glasses. 

"Let me help you. They're right here, now hold still." Only able to the blurry figure, he raised the rounded glasses to Kyungsoo's face. His hands swept by his cold, pale cheeks and when he was able to see clearly, the man had become closer. Closer as on only three inches away from Kyungsoo's own face. 

Having a person in that close a proximity made uncomfortable, so instinctually he jolted himself the opposite direction. This sudden movement made that cup of coffee spill over into its consumer. 

"I'm so sorry! I was just wanted to help and-" The one in the coat bended down to try and assist Kyungsoo, only to be haunted by his commands. 

"Get away from me! You've 'helped' me enough already! Just get lost and never come back!" While his was wasting his breath on this incompetent creature, the latter was scribbling something on a receipt. 

"Here, call me and I'll get you a new pair of glasses and a new cup of coffee. Don't forget." Showing those already annoying pearly whites for what seemed like the fifth hundred time, the stranger took Kyungsoo's hand and put the paper in it. Bidding Kyungsoo goodbye, the boy laughed to himself and waved. 

Whispering what an idiot that guy was, Kyungsoo man the mistake of glancing at the paper. A paper with numbers on it, number he knew he wouldn't be able to get out of head. 

"There's no way in hell I'll be calling you, Kim Jongin." Reading the name off it, he ripped the small paper into a million pieces and threw it on the garbage. Out of sight, out of mind. Right?