A second chance

   You never really forget someone. You'll never really be fine after a break up. Things never really go back to what it was. People never really change, but they do just enough to everything up. You never really move on. Because when you love someone, they leave a mark. Without you really noticing it. Injuries never really heal. You get used to it. You pretend to be okay. You force yourself to think of something else. And it's true to say that for a while, you think you actually can do it. You think you were wrong when you thought it was impossible. You think you can be happy without him. You're almost proud of yourself for having been strong. It's not really about strength. It's about being busy enough, or having enough people who depend on you, having something that obligates you to smile. Because we can't always be sad. If we could, we all would. Well, we probably all are, but no one wants to admit it. It's not right to cry in public, that's why. Only children have the right to cry freely, but adults are the ones who have the most reasons to cry. Adults are stupid. They cry for people who hurt them. But I guess it's normal, because everybody goes through this.

   So I got used to it. I pretended I was okay. I forced myself to think of something else. And it worked pretty well. Maybe I could be happy without him. Or at least, not being sad anymore. That's what I thought, until I saw him again. I didn't recognize him when he got in the restaurant I work at. I haven't seen him in three years. I don't really take time to look closely at him and his friends and I go to his table to serve them. I take my notebook and my pen out of my pocket while muttering a little hello. When I look up to tell them the usual welcome sentence, I freeze on the spot. It's him. I can't believe I haven't recognized him at the first glance. Even if he's now blond and more tanned, he's still the same. Oh, and he also lost weight. We can see his jaw line better. His tanned skin makes his eyes look deeper.  I shiver when his eyes meet mines. He quickly look at me from head to toe, then makes a little smirk. I can't tell if he recognized me or if he's just being polite. Seeing I'm still not saying anything, he looks down at his menu at say his order. I start to breathe again. Think of something else, Mark. I start to write it down, but I'm shaking so much, as if I didn't know how to write. So many things are going through my mind right now. As if all the memories would come back at the same time, even though I tried so hard to bury them deep in me. I quickly write down their order before going back to the kitchen as if my life would depend on it. I leave the order on the counter and I turn around to go to the restroom. Before I even had time to leave the kitchen, the chef make me notice that I forgot to ask them which side dishes they wanted. I sigh before answering something randomly. I really don't care. I attempt to go to the restroom again to calm myself when we tell me the drinks are ready. Since when are they so fast?! I curse under my breath before going back to my ex's table with the drinks. Since I didn't take time to remember who ordered what, I ask them directly. I serve the drinks, then the guy in front of Jackson says he has my ex's drink. Without thinking about it, I simply take the two glasses and make them slide on the table to change their place. However, my hand bump Jackson's and the glass spills on him. Almost half of the liquid fell on him. As if things couldn't get worst, I had the reflex to apologize while taking a napkin and wiping his t-shirt.

   — It's okay, it's okay, he says as he took the napkin from my hands.

   I look up and see that his friends are holding back their laughs, then I realize that it's weird to wipe your customers. How dumb I am.

   — I'll get you another drink, I say quickly.

   — It's okay, I should have enough left, he answers.

   So I go directly to the restroom without adding anything more. I'm so stressed that I feel like I'm about to cry. Actually, maybe the stress is not what makes me feel like this. I didn't know that seeing him again would make me feel this way. When I get in the restroom, I sigh of relief seeing nobody's in there. I'm so hot. I'm happy that my shirt is black so no one can see how much I'm sweating.  I feel bad. I don't want to go back there, I don't want to see him again, I don't want to think of him and what he did to me. He seems to be doing fine. Why am I not okay after three ing years?! I turn off the tap and I go get some paper to wipe my face before going back to work. I have to do it. I can do it. I'll do my job and they'll leave without giving tip, which would be normal. At this time, a man gets in the restroom. I look up instinctively and notice it's Jackson. He stops in front of me before going to the sink without saying anything.

   — I should have ordered water, he says as he takes off his jacket, then his t-shirt to wash it.

   As I thought, he's also more muscular than he used to be. Think of something else, Mark.

   — I'm sorry, I mutter as I quickly finish to wipe my face.

   — Mark, he says before I have the time to leave the room.

   I freeze. He remembers me, he recognized me. Of course he did, it's not like I would've changed a lot in three years. I'm still the same weak and vulnerable boy who felt so lost three years ago. I'm still the same, and it really pisses me off. I don't turn around, I don't want to meet his eyes. I just let him continue.

   — I haven't seen you in three years, do you have time to talk? What are you up to?

   — I got work to do, I answer right away before leaving the restroom and going back to work.

   Fortunately, my ex's table's order wasn't ready yet, so I had time to serve other customers and calm myself a little bit. But it also let the time to Jackson to come back to his table when I had to serve them. Since I vaguely remember who ordered what, I let them take their plates when I put them on the table. Just before I leave, one of them tells me he can't eat cucumbers, so he can't eat what I just served him. It wouldn't have happened if I would have took the time to ask him what side dish he wanted earlier. I excuse myself once more telling him that I would bring another dish, without cucumbers this time. I take the plate and turn around to go back to the kitchen and I bump right into my colleague, making fall what we were carrying. I take a deep breath to hold back the curse that was about to come out of my mouth. What a ty day.

   — Wow, dude, be careful! says Yugyeom, my colleague.

   — I'll go get the broom, I mutter.

   He takes my arm to stop me right before I had time to leave. He whispers to my ear:

   — Relax, Mark. I know these guys are y, but you gotta calm down. Clean this mess, I'll serve them and purpose them a dessert that you'll pay to compensate, he says before going back to the kitchen.

   Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that he is my best friend. But honestly, if you have other people to introduce me, it'd be great. I go to the back to get the broom to clean this mess. The rest of the evening was pretty fine, since Yugyeom forbade  me to get close to this table again. I ended up by paying their dessert and they left. At the closing, right before leaving the restaurant, Yugyeom tells me that one of the guys of the table might be waiting for me, because he would have told him the time I left. Seriously, do you have other friends for me? I give him a dark look before going outside to meet this not-so-mysterious guy. He's there, sitting in his car, the only one in the parking lot at this time. He looks up and sees me. He put his phone in his pocket and gets out of the car. I don't want to talk to him, but I feel like I don't have the choice. Maybe I'll be able to convince him that I don't want to see him again this time.

   — Mark! Now that you finished working, can we talk? he says from his car.

   — I'm dead tired, I answer.

   — Then what about I bring you back home?

   — No thanks, I say, almost to myself.

   He turns around and bend as if he would sit in his car, but he only takes the key. He locks the doors and run to me. Maybe he didn't change that much either. Still as childish and cute. Well, it was cute three years ago, but now it's just annoying.

   — I'll still accompany you, he says with a little smile.

    I have to tell him to go. If I stay with him for too long, something bad will happen.

   — Jackson, no. I don't wanna talk to you, I have nothing to tell you. I can't stop you from eating here, but if you plan on coming back, tell me. I'll find another job. Because I don't wanna see you again.

   He sighs as he passes a hand on the back of his neck.

   — To be honest, I wasn't trying to get in touch with you again either. I hurt you, and I regret so much. You already know it, but I'm saying it again. Seeing you again today made me feel even worst, and it made me realize how much I missed you. You miss me too, don't you? You wouldn't be acting like this if not.

   — Yes, I miss you. And it pisses me off, I mean, how could I still be thinking of you? You don't deserve that I think of you. You cheated on me, you made me feel like crap, and I cried for three long years. But I…

   I stop when I see that he wipes a tear. I remain silent few seconds, until he says:

   — I'm so sorry. I ed everything up, I know it. But there's not one single day on which I don't regret it, Mark.

   — I'm sorry that you feel this way, really. But…

   — I would regret it even more if I'd let you go today. I… I need you. It has been three years that I haven't smiled without forcing it because you're not there anymore. I didn't believe in soul mates and all that before, but now I do. I only think of you, I…

   — Exactly, Jackson. It makes me tired to think of you. It makes me tired to have to force myself to think about something else because I'm constantly thinking of you. I need to meet someone else, to work, to start over. It was working fine until today. It's better for us to stay away from each other so we can forget about our relationship.

   — You have to give me a second chance, he mutters between two sobs.

   — You know I never believed in second chance, I said before turning around and leave.

   The further I get, the more a part of me screams to go back and kiss him. That's what we used to do when we fought; we'd kiss and forget. But I couldn't forget. So I left, and I almost forgot everything. It's so naïve to believe that we can forget everything.

*

   I'm feeling better. It has been almost a week since I hadn't seen him. I think he understood. I had to work like crazy to stop thinking of him. I did a lot of  overtime and I didn't sleep a lot. My roommate, Jinyoung, has noticed it. I didn't want to tell him about what was going on. So he purposed to go out on my next day off. Few drinks wouldn't hurt me, I thought.

   But I forgot how sad I was, and how happy alcohol could make me feel. So here I am, sitting on a bar stool, laughing like crazy with my roommate. I don't even know why we're laughing, but it makes me feel good.

   — Mark, I think we're drunk! he shouts over the music.

   — Yeah, about that, what time is it now? I say as I look at my wrist to laugh because I'm not wearing a watch.

   Jinyoung quickly look around him before pointing a wall clock.

   — Damn, I can't read time… Which one is the short hand? he says.

   I laugh as I say:

   — Okay, I think it's a sign that it's time to go home

   — I don't have money for a taxi, I'll leave with a driver later, Jinyoung tells me.

   — You better not leave with someone as drunk as…

   Since I was a bit dizzy, I almost trip when I put my foot on the ground. Why are the stools so high? Jinyoung laughs when he sees me.

   — Don't worry, if he's as drunk as you are, I'll walk! Anyway, see you! he says as he taps my shoulder before leaving in the crowd.

   Now I have to find the exit. I quickly look around me to find a sign written "EXIT" on it. Since my eyesight was pretty blurry, I head to the first red light that I see, without being able to read it. I'm now in front of stairs. They seem to be so long to climb from here. I sigh before climbing the stairs clumsily. As I look at the ground to be sure I don't get dizzy looking up, I only see feet going down in front of me. I move to the wall to let the person pass, but I lose my balance. The guy catch me by the arm so I don't fall. I look up and see it's Jackson. For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. 

   — Mark? You're drunk?

   — You again? I say with a lazy voice.

   — You can't even walk straight, you should go home, he says as he lets go my arm.

   — That's what I was tryin' to do, I say before putting a foot ahead.

   I look up and the height makes me dizzy. I lean against the wall, wincing.

   — Here, I'll help you, Jackson says as he takes my shoulder to help me climbing up the stairs.

   — I don't need help, I mutter without fighting against it.

   When we get outside, I start to feel nauseous. Jackson says something about a taxi and takes his phone out of his pocket. Before he dials, he looks up. He suddenly looks worried. I don't even have time to warn him before vomiting on him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. I start to laugh, I can't help it.

   — It's far from being funny, he mutters.

   — I think it is. You ruin my life, I puke on you. Well, I hope that guy was worth it. Unless it was a girl? Then, I understand.

   — Mark…

   — Actually, no I can't understand since I never touched a or anything like that. But if it was a dude… I wasn't doin' it right? I wasn't good enough? I thought about it again and again and about , because you told me it was only , I had done nothing wrong. It's because I didn't wanna swallow it? Ah, I see, that was the problem. Girls always swallow…

   — Mark, stop now, he says as he puts his hand on my shoulder.

   — But seriously, I start as I push his hand away. I trusted you. I let you convince me… of so many things, and thinking about it again… makes me wanna puke, I say before swallowing hard. Okay, alcohol might also be for something.

   Without saying anything, Jackson takes me  by the shoulders to turn me around right before I vomit a second time. I let myself fall on my knees to burst into tears. I must look so pathetic, crying above my own vomit. Jackson puts his hand on my back and gently rub it.

   — I hate you, I say with a shaky voice.

   — I hate myself too, he whispers.

   After long minutes crying, I finally get up. Jackson calls a taxi. We don't say anything before it arrives. He helps me getting in, then he bend over to ask me if I'm okay. Despite all my will, I don't think before asking him to come with me. I don't want to be alone tonight, especially not drunk. In the car, I lean my head on his shoulder and I whisper:

   — I loved you so much

   — I know, he answers.

   I didn't add anything else since I fell asleep. I don't really remember what happened next. I was so drunk and tired… I vaguely remember telling him to stop touching me, and I remember seeing him taking off my shirt… And kissing him…

   I open my eyes. Okay, maybe it was just a dream. I look around me when I realize that I'm not in my bedroom. I'm in Jinyoung's room. And he's sleeping next to me. He's fully dressed and I'm only wearing boxers and socks. I sigh as I pass a hand in my hair. I got a headache. I get up slowly to be sure I don't get dizzy, then I go to the kitchen. I stop crossing the living room when I see that Jackson is sleeping on my couch, also with only his boxers on. Okay, can someone explain me what's happening? I sigh before going to him and shaking his shoulder to wake him up. He growls and winces before opening his eyes. He closes them after seeing me.

   — Hey, he says with a sleepy voice.

   He seems peaceful. That's a bad sign. He shouldn't be peaceful with a hangover. We probably did something last night.

   — You'll start by telling me exactly what happened yesterday and if it doesn't explain the fact that you're sleeping on my couch in your boxer, you'll tell me why you're still there.

   — Good morning, he says in a sarcastic tone as he sits. Tell me what you remember and I'll explain you’re the rest, he says while rubbing his eyes.

   — I remember telling you to stop touching me. Did you try to sleep with me when I was drunk?

   — I put my hands into your jeans' pockets to find your apartment's keys. So you told me stop touching you when that's totally not what I was doing.

   — Why am I only wearing my boxers? And why did I woke up in Jinyoung's bed?

   — Jinyoung? There's another guy in your bed?

   — My roommate. I slept in my roommate's bed wearing only boxers and I don't remember if I did things before falling asleep.

   — I don't know, I helped you taking off your clothes because you smelled like and I let you fall asleep in the first bed I found, he says as he gets up. Then I took off my clothes and I put everything in the washing machine, he tells me while heading to the bathroom.

   He opens the washing machine to show me that what he was saying was true. If I look closely, I can see that he washed my white t-shirt with his red shirt and our jeans.

   — I was so tired that I slept on the couch. I didn't want to…

   — Jackson.

   —… Cross the city wearing only my boxers, nor clothes full of…

   — Jackson, I say again as I bend down to take my pink t-shirt, which used to be white.

   — What? he snaps.

   I don't answer and I let him figure it out by himself. He opens his mouth to say something, then he closes it again.

   — Did I tell you how tired I was last night?

   We both laugh lightly. There's a silence between us. We look at each other's eyes. His are so pretty, I forgot how pretty they were. He finally says:

   — I tried nothing with you, but it would be a lie to say that I didn't think of it. When I started to undress you, you kissed me and you told me you wanted me. But I know you're always like this when you're drunk, so I just put you in bed.

   It takes me few seconds to assimilate the information, then I say while looking down:

   — So this part wasn't a dream either…

   — No, but it felt like one.

   I look up. He makes a step ahead and looks at my lips. He bites his bottom lip before looking up to meet my eyes. God, he's so y.

   — I know you don't believe in second chances, but let me try to make you change your mind about it, he whispers.

   I can't let him kiss me. Just feeling his hot breath against my lips makes me lose control little by little. Seconds are passing and we stay like this for a while. Not being able to hold it back anymore, I grab him by the neck and kiss him. He takes my hips and pushes me against the washing machine, then places his hands on either sides of my body. We kiss for a long time until we run out of oxygen. He looks at me with a smirk and say:

   — Does that mean you're giving me a second chance?

   I shouldn't. I shouldn't have kissed him, even though it felt so good. Even though I kinda want to have with him right now. I shouldn't be so weak. I don't want to let him have that power on me, like he used to have. But I can't help it. Every time he touches me, every time he gets close, I feel so weak. He makes me so vulnerable, he could make me do anything. But it. Maybe he doesn't deserve a second chance, maybe he didn't change that much and will hurt me again, but right now, right now I… I just want him next to me. I want him to sleep in my bed, not on my couch. Honestly, I would give everything to be happy with him, like before. And I don't know if we can't go back to what we once were. Why do I have to make this decision now? No matter what I say, he won't go away. He'll always be in my thoughts, somewhere in my mind. I'm tired of fighting against the thought of him. I don't want to do this anymore. If I forgive him and forget what he did, maybe we could be happy. Maybe he won't do it again. Maybe he won't hurt me again and we'll be fine. I'll finally be fine. It's probably the only thing that could make me smile again.

   — You better not disappoint me, I whisper.

   He smiles before kissing me again.

   You never really forget someone, but maybe it's a good thing at the end. Because you remember that this person is not completely bad, and that what have been broken can be fixed. You only need to believe it, and let your pride aside to give a second chance. It is really worth it.