“Okay.”

It was as short as that. My head shot up immediately upon hearing that single word rolling out of his beautiful lips. I didn’t even realize that I’d been staring down at my fingers, fiddling with them during the pregnant silence that seeped in right after I had spilled my long train of thoughts. That was pretty short. It was easier like that; no twisted refutation or negotiation, but damn, that was much shorter than my expectation. It was like he had seen through the situation even before I had revealed what had been lingering on my thoughts these past few weeks; hence, he had known what to say. It was like he had been reading into the scattered mess I’d been keeping so quietly on my mind right before I even moved my tongue. The mess about everything that had got me thinking that I was probably just one of those ungrateful es who took people’s hearts for granted. I probably was. And probably, he had simply known it. That, or I had just unconsciously left everything on display for him to see; crystal clear.

Let’s face it. A three year long relationship should have been too precious to let go, shouldn’t it? I mean, it was not some five-hundred-days-of-summer ; it was three freaking years. More than a thousand days of a daily realization that I belonged to someone else. That I wasn’t alone and thus, wasn’t supposed to feel lonely; except, I did. I should have felt this lingering feeling, a heavy lump that was supposed to anchor my heart down to my stomach upon the realization that we had just mutually agreed – just like that – to break up. But I didn’t. It wasn’t like I felt relieved, though. It felt like . . . Nothing more than a casual change. Like when you need to eat noodles every once in a while when rice started to bore you.

I never meant to make this sound like some game. Those three years was truly something for me; too many memories would come flashing on the back of my closed eyelids during every night spent for tossing and turning without any particular reason. It was definitely something special, which was why I had been pacing back and forth about what I actually wanted. What my heart actually needed. What was the best for the both of us.

I stared down into my half-emptied mug, taking interest in my almost cooled latte. Not that it was an attractive sight; I was just running out of courage to spare a glance into those dark brown orbs of his.

“Yoongi-ah . . .” I left my words hanging. It wasn’t like I knew what I wanted to say anyway.

“I know. You’re sorry, and so am I. You’re not making any mistakes if that’s what you’re thinking. And I’m not judging you if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m hurting; I can’t lie. But you are too. The fact that you feel the need to let go, that must be a solid proof that you are also hurting. So you’re not making a wrong decision. We are not making a wrong decision, if this means you would stop hurting.”

See? Min Yoongi was a genious indeed. Or maybe he had simply known me too well. He had this ability to explore every corner of my thoughts and even unscramble the words for me. He was saying the truth, except for that last one. I wasn’t actually hurting. Guilty? Yes, for hurting him. Hurt? I doubted it. And I hated the fact that I wasn’t, because this whole relationship was never just a damn fling for me. It was supposed to hurt for me to let go. Like when you force to separate two glued pieces of paper. But I wasn’t hurting, and I loathed it. What kind of human being did that make me?

Things used to be very passionate between us. It started with just a cliche small talk about the weather. He was waiting to have his audition, and I was just a supporter for my friend who was going to the audition as well. Our first encounter was in front of a coffee vending machine. We were too busy fiddling with our coins in our own hands as we were making our ways towards the machine, and the coins slipped from our hands at the same time just as if there was some kind of inaudible cue out of nowhere. It resulted to us bumping our heads as we bent to pick them up.

“Rainy days call for coffee, right?” he said. A bit irrelevant and absolutely a way far from conservative to start a conversation, but damn, that was smooth. Everything went naturally from that point; soft shy giggles, insignificant weather conversations, sparks flying in the air out of nowhere, and we clicked just like that. Yoongi made it through the audition, but my friend didn’t. I couldn’t properly grief for her failure though, for I was too occupied feeling lovestruck about a certain Min Yoongi I’d met in front of a coffee vending machine.

Days after that were the sweetest. We did what people usually do on dramas. Late night texts, random phonecalls, short coffee dates in a cafe near his dorm, and finally, confessions. It wasn’t something fancy, but that was what made it special. No cheesy lines or prolonged hesitations. It was that normal afternoon we spent sitting together on our usual spot in the cafe. I would usually order lattes, but I was in the mood for americano that day. Oddly enough, our usual waiter brought three cups of lattes to our table even before we had ordered anything. I was about to protest at the wrong delivery but my eyes flew to the latte art on the surface of each cup. There were writings on three of them. One of them said “Be mine?” while the other two were supposed to be some sort of options for answering. Except, the two options were similar in meaning; either “Yes!” or “ Yeah!” and that was that.

Our days as a couple were full of fireworks and butterflies. We did bicker a lot though, mostly over trivial things. But when we did fight over crucial things, we used to end up getting through them and even growing stronger in the aftermath. That was how a young-blooded relationship supposed to be, wasn’t it? We somehow made it work through our busy college days despite our different interests and contradicting personalities. As much as we tried our best to keep the things as they were, they started to drift towards an unwanted direction after we had graduated. We started working in different fields. Yoongi debuted as a rapper for his group and I started working as a literature teacher. We were just busy, but that was that. Or so we thought, until we started losing count of our cancelled promises. And things changed as naturally as it could, like how the autumn wind would casually blow all the golden leaves away from the branches they had been perching on all spring and summer. Nothing stays the same in this world, they say. I found myself snuggling with my favorite blanket more