Story Told Through V.Woolf and S.Plath’s Words

 

“They went in and out of each other's minds without any effort.” 
― ia Woolf

 

                Even though he’s talking to her friends, he’s looking at her through his peripheral vision. She seemed uninterested with his presence for she is too focus with what she’s studying about. Well sometimes he would catch her looking at him but only when her friends said something that required her to respond and look at him. He doesn’t know why he seemed to be paying attention at her. Kind of. He is quite sure that he’s not harboring romantic feelings towards her. He has a girlfriend and truth be told, he loves her. He loves that girl to no end but he will never admit that. He’s too shy? Maybe. Too cheesy? Probably. But really, talk about being scared to admit it out loud.

                His friends ditched him. Or maybe he’s just not in mood to deal with their right now, and also, he needed a breather. Sometimes friends can be so stressful, too. So you try to talk to other people and live a little outside your circle. And so he has these girls.

                He’s a transfer student and that being said, his friends are friends with these people. They all share the same major that’s why it’s totally cool. At least they get to understand one another’s stupid puns.

                “Why are you so loud?” Joy asked him while laughing. “I thought you were quiet.”

                “I am,” he answered while wiping the fog off his glasses, “But I can be loud, too.”

                “Yeah. Nice timing. Finals week… really, Mark?” Seulgi said.

                “Please stop pretending that you’re studying.” His voice is full of humor when he said that but he knows for a fact that he isn’t lying. Not even a bit. And he’s “kind of” sending her a message.

                “The table keeps on moving! Stop leaning.” Joy was quick to notice.

                “It wasn’t me,” he pointed at her, “It was your friend.”

                So she stopped leaning on the table stared at him as if she couldn’t believe at what he just said. But still, she didn’t say anything. But he heard her sigh. And she made her so sigh so deep so he would notice. It’s crazy how she wants him to talk to her. And what’s crazier is that she knows it shouldn’t be that way. She already has a hopeless crush on someone else. And she prefers hopeless crushes more than anything else. One hopeless crush is enough, twice is too much.

                But the moment that he was just talking about totally random things and 100% ruining the silence in the library, she just can’t stop her thoughts about him. Heck, she’s stuck on the same page of her Abnormal Psychology book. Same page for over twenty minutes. Because she’s trying her best to listen to what he has to say. He ing makes her nervous that it’s making her insane. He wasn’t that cute. Okay, sure, he is cute. But he’s the typical cutie so you won’t pay attention to him. But this day is different. Maybe it was her stupid hormones because, you know, the monthly bloody hell. But whatever the reason is, she knows she’s ed. She’s even thinking about the possibility of “them” which is totally ridiculous. She’s not interested. She doesn’t like relations. She has her hopeless crush to a Fine Arts student and most importantly, she has DAY6. She’s a fangirl, she only needs her oppars. She knows what love is: love is DAY6. Love is her bias, Brian ing Kang, that will make her, honestly, go crazy with just the thought of him.

                So, why is this boy makes her feel like she’s sitting on the edge of a knife?

                “Let’s go and grab lunch.” Irene announced. She immediately stood up. Nice timing indeed. She won’t finally see him. Finally she won’t be thinking of ty things. She adjusted her glasses before giving him a sideway glance. Yes. That’s it. Food will make her stop thinking of him.

                But of course she was wrong. Nighttime came and she’s still thinking about him. She went to shower thinking about him and went to bed, again, with only that boy and his stupid laugh, nerdy glasses, and, as cheesy as it sounds, his smile. Or maybe his face in general.

                And that same night, the moment he closed his eyes, the image of a certain girl won’t leave his mind. This certain girl whose name he doesn’t even know.

                If she can kick herself in the face, she will actually do it. His image keeps on appearing on her mind. When she checked her facebook, she saw a notification from their moderator on their facebook group. And when she checked it, that’s when she learned his last name.

                She knows him, of course. She knows a lot of people who doesn’t know her. But the moment she learns their last name, it’s a deal breaker. Everything is always something to her. For someone who gives enough about the world’s bull, she gives so goddamn much about her emotions.

                So she tried shutting the world with DAY6’s music with the hope of forgetting about him. But to no avail. Especially when she learned something so stupid about him and yet so cute. Cute. She hates that word. She decided that she hated it. For what reason? For obvious reasons, of course.

                Winter holidays came. Nice. She missed out a lot about her boys—DAY6. Finally she can catch up. But as she does that, he would constantly enter her mind. She can’t help but hiss whenever she thought of him. Yes… hiss. She hated the feeling. She wanted to check his facebook account but she can’t seem to do it. Knowing his last name is enough of a deal breaker but to stalk someone on social media is a much bigger problem.

                She knows she has a crush on him. Even though he doesn’t make her feel giddy, smiley, excited… whatsoever. He makes her nervous and so conscious of herself. He makes her want to run away. And it took her enough courage to finally admit it to herself. The same way she admitted her crush to this Fine Arts student.

                Although she was able to admit it to herself, she knows for a fact that what she feels isn’t what they call love. She knows what love is, of course. She spent half of her life reading books, she knows the technical meaning of it through the dictionary, and she knows it because of her family, friends… the usual. She knows it because of DAY6—as stupid as that sounds. So no, what she feels isn’t love. Admiration, maybe? Because for her, that’s what a “crush” is. A subject of admiration. Purely detached of emotional attachment. Maybe.

                Winter term started. And they’re both on the same research class. He isn’t sure if he’s happy or bothered by that fact. He totally forgot about her. Didn’t think of her for the whole winter break. But now that she’s here, he wanted to run. Why? He doesn’t know. And it seems like he will never know the answer. Or maybe he’s wrong.

                He was late in class so he had no choice but to sit at the back. And to his surprised, she’s also there. And she seemed bored. “This class is so boring,” she muttered to herself completely unaware that the boy she can’t stop thinking about is sitting beside her.

                “Right?” so she quickly faced the direction of the voice. She almost, almost, exit the room. “Miss Forsyth is .” . What a nice word, she thought. A meaningless word that seems to have a lot of meanings. Like, maybe, her stupid mind that cannot stop thinking of this boy with nerdy glasses. “What’s your name again?” he asked.

                “Wendy.” She was quick to reply. But she was quite sure that he didn’t notice that she rolled her eyes. Of course he doesn’t know her name. Of course.

                “My name’s Mark.” He said while smiling so brightly at her. His smile is almost blinding.

                She wanted to say: I know, you idiot. I know. But decided against that.

                “Are you really normally this quiet?”

                “Excuse me?”

                “I thought I was the quiet one.”

                “I’m not. I just don’t feel like talking.”

                “Oh yea?”

                “Please don’t question my abilities. I’m more talkative than Joy and Irene combined.”

                He looked at her as if she grew an eye on her forehead. But why would she lie, right? Strangers don’t lie. They are most likely to tell you the truth more than your family and friends ever will.

                “I need you to prove it.”

                “Why should I?” she rolled her eyes, and this time, she doesn’t hide it. She made sure she really did roll her eyes at him. “But game on.”

                “Do you want to cut?” She didn’t expect that. Out of all the things that she imagined would happen, cutting class with this boy isn’t part of it.

                She shrugged and stood up, “Sure. I’ll go ahead. Look for me at the courtyard.”

                And he didn’t expect her to say yes. But maybe if Miss Forsyth is your professor, you wouldn’t think twice to ditch the class. Regardless of how nerdy you are. No offense to Wendy but he pegged her as the “nerd” in her group of friends. Not in a negative way, of course. Besides, nerds shouldn’t be used as a negative word to describe someone. If anything, nerds are awesome. They basically run the world.

                “So,” she looked around, “Where are you taking me?” that sounded so wrong but she continued. “I’m hungry. Maybe we should eat.”

                “Will you be able to talk while eating?”

                “You are underestimating me.” she smirked and flipped her fair. She wants to slap herself for sounding so flirty. Flirting. She never thought she would acquaint herself with that word. She doesn’t know how to flirt. She doesn’t have a single knowledge on how to actually flirt.

                And so they spent their whole day talking about random things.  They ditched all their classes, which surprised him because he never imagined her to be the person who will actually skip classes. He smiled at the thought. He likes being surprised. He likes how people can be so surprising. To name one: Wendy.

                She talks about the weirdest of things. Well he might have put her into stereotyped but then again, that’s life. We categorize people when we shouldn’t be really doing that. She talks like she has the world wrapped around her hands, she speaks so confidently and is not afraid to be… herself. But he knows that she’s more than what she presents herself to be. She’s more than her crude jokes and stupid smiles. She’s more than her snorts and sassy personality. If anything, he would call her an enigma. That sounded so cheesy, something a boy from a young adult novel would say… but he couldn’t think of any other word to describe her.

                She’s like a song you can’t decipher the meaning. So twisted yet so… good.

                So before they end their day, they were thinking about each other. He doesn’t think of her girlfriend. He forgot to return her calls. He was just thinking of that girl. And on the following days… he couldn’t stop thinking of her. Or wouldn’t.

                Three months later, they are friends. They became close friends. Not the touchy kind… but friends. And nobody seemed to be weirded out by that fact. And one week ago, Mark broke up with his girlfriend. He wasn’t so stupid. So he broke up with her. He doesn’t want to lie to the girl he once loved. So he told her the truth. That someone made him feel so… differently. He feels as though he is a psychology major—though he really is—and she is a Theories of Personality book. She is his bible. The psych major’s bible.

                She pointed at Sana, his ex-girlfriend. “Can you not point? It’s rude.”

                “Shut up.”

                “Are you stupid? What if she sees us?”

                “Are you stupid?” he mimicked her, “As if I care, right?”

                “I know that you’re insensitive sometimes but I didn’t know you’re that insensitive.”

                “Don’t talk as if you know something.”

                “Well I’m just worried.”

                “About what?”

                “She might think we’re together.”

                He fell silent. And for the first time, she feels weird. She had receiving signals from this boy. But she does not want to think beyond what’s right in front of her. They’re friends. And that’s all.

                So he snatched his coffee away from her hand. “Don’t you want us to be together?” he asked. She didn’t say anything. They went home without saying anything to each other. Not even a goodbye.

                Maybe he crossed a line. Maybe he read between the lines too much. But how would Wendy explain all the secret glances—yes, he would catch her from time to time doing that. How about that look that she gives him? Friends? Bull. So when he felt his phone vibrate, he immediately opened it. A message from her. Nice.

                “Do you want us to be together?”

                The next day, he was touchy that while they were at the library with her friends and his friends Jackson and Jb, his arms are around her waist. She didn’t call on him about it so it’s a go signal. Do it.

                Jackson noticed so he nudged her shoulder because he’s sitting right next to her. “What’s with the two of you?”

                She doesn’t know how to answer that question. Really. But maybe her body has a mind of its own… or maybe it really was a conscious thought… she cupped Mark’s face and looked at him directly in his eyes. “Tell them.” And that was the only thing he was waiting for.

                He smiled and kissed her cheek. She wanted to push him away. She’s shy. She’s not really a touchy person. She doesn’t like skin contact. She hated it. “We’re together.”

 

“I was my own woman.
The next step was to find the proper sort of man.” 
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

 

                “And you should know by now that there’ll be times that I won’t be trading my fangirl duties for you.” If anything, she is honest. To the point that sometimes her honesty will hurt you.

                “Okay,” he said. A little disappointed. “I understand.”

                “And I just want you to know that I won’t be going on dates with you every weekend because I like my alone time.” That, he is very much aware of. “I might cancel plans five minutes before our call time.”

                He huffed. “Okay.”

                His face turned… dark. And it hurt her to bits. She does not want to make him feel bad. She just wanted to be honest with him. “And if you got bored with me because I’m honestly boring as hell, I will understand.”

                “Can you not say that, please?”

                “Here’s the thing,” she cupped his face again with her palms, “I want you to be happy more than anything else. So if you are no longer happy with me, don’t be afraid to tell, okay? I will understand.”

                “Please stop saying such ridiculous things.”

                “I’m telling you this because… this is me. I am myself. I own myself, Mark. I love you. I really do and you have to believe me with that. I may not show it, I may not express it always but I love you. Okay? I own myself but I am holding out my heart with you. I will disappoint you, I will make you sad, I will make you feel bad… because I can’t help myself. I might not be able to control myself.”

                “Why are you being like this?” he pulled her into a hug and she in normal circumstance, she will push him away. She doesn’t like hugs. “Just be yourself, okay? I don’t want you to change. I chose you, didn’t I?” and if the cardiovascular muscle from the left side of her chest can explode, it will.

                “I’m just scared.” She sighed. “I love you but more than anything else… I love myself.” She doesn’t have a narcissistic personality disorder... it’s just that… it wasn’t her fault if she learnt to love herself first. “It might sound so wrong, so selfish…”

                “All I have to know from you is that you love me. And about the other things, I can always figure them out.”

                “But don’t be afraid to ask, okay?”

                “I am—and never was—afraid.”

                “Shut up,” she detached herself from him. And then she tiptoed and leaned.

                “Are you going to kiss me or—”

                She kissed him. And he was too stunned to respond. When she was about to break it, he wrapped her arms around her body to support her. And they kissed the soul out of each other.

                They said that first kiss is something that is sweet, crazy, exhilarating… but this kiss, her first kiss, is groundbreaking. It’s shaking her whole world, it’s making her flow… liquid… It makes her want to run, to save herself. Because this kiss is shutting off her senses. She can’t think properly, she can’t control herself. This time she’s no longer sitting on the edge of a knife, this time she is cut in two. Her soul is bare, and her heart… she’s holding it with someone else. She’s terrified, of course. That’s the truth. She just gave someone the right to break her when all her life she had been trying to protect herself from pain.

               

“But with you I am deeply, passionately, unrequitedly in love.” 
― ia Woolf, Letter to Vanessa Bell

 

And so he loves her.

                Truth. And it made him wonder if he truly loved before. It’s he sickening truth and he can’t believe he’s actually thinking of those things.

                But he doesn’t exaggerate things when she’s around. She doesn’t want it. And so he would follow what she wants. He loves her to that extent that sometimes it’s making him question his sanity. Everything about her makes him question his own sanity. And maybe it was too early to talk but when your emotions are overflowing and you don’t give a single damn about what people say, maybe that’s really love. But he doesn’t tell her that. He just let her be. He knows she can’t stand something that is beyond cheesy. But maybe one day he can tell her. Maybe when she’s not too afraid to really fall. Because in love, you fall twice. You stumble, you fall, and you fall. How come? Only you can answer that.

                Sometimes when she would initiate things like holding his hand or snuggling. She surprised him. And she keeps on surprising him. And what a lady can do but surprise her man, right? She is a woman. And she holds the galaxies in her hands—including his own.

                “Why are you sulking?” He her hair as he ask her that. She felt shivers down to her spine. He still makes her feel nervous. But she likes it. She likes it a lot. Somehow it became a comfort. It became adaptive. It was no longer a state. It was trait solely for him. Only him.

                “Their fan meeting got cancelled. Again.”

                “Aw,” he teased, “It’s okay. I’ll be your oppa if you want.”

                She pushed him away. “Don’t. Ugh,” she almost snapped. She’s ing pissed. “Their management is being such a . They don’t promote my boys that much.”

                He shook his head and dragged her out of the building, “I’m hungry. Let’s get some pizza?”

                “Aren’t you sick of pizza?”

                When she looked at him, horror is evident in his face. “Why would I get sick of pizza?”

                “Fine. Since they also like pizza then I will just think I’m eating it with them.” He was also surprised that he’s not even mad about… her madness for DAY6. If she loves him, she also loves them. Sometimes she looks like she loves them more. “Universal food, right, okay.”

                “Yes. So come on,” she still has this faraway look in her eyes. “Maybe when you graduate you can go to Seoul and strangle their CEO or something.”

                “Nice idea.”

                “Great idea, Wendy. Great idea.”

                “You will get me in jail.”

                “Only if you will actually do it.”

                While they were on their way to the pizza parlor, she saw her original hopeless crush. And she would be lying if she will say that she no longer has a crush on him. That Fine Arts student is the original you-make-me-go-gaga-please-stop-I-only-want-to-think-about-oppa. Crush is… a crush. A subject of admiration. Not romantically… but something. But of course she loves this boy beside her. He loves her that she even looked away from DAY6 so she can look at him. That for a die-hard fangirl that says a lot about her.

                “Only if you will do it with me.” He squeezed her hand. She knows his answer.

                Not that they will actually do it. But that hand squeeze meant something. And she’s sure that’s what he meant by that, too. That he will be with her. No matter what. He’s up for her bull. He will do things she asks him to do.

                So she does the same.

                And oh boy, it made him blush. He knows what she meant. And he couldn’t be happier.

                Couldn’t. Be. Happier.

                And maybe she wasn’t just his bible. She is his spirit guide. She does not only guide his mind, she guides his soul. Completely. Deeply. Passionately.

 

“Let him go. Have the guts.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unbridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

 “I can't go on spoiling your life any longer.
I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.”
― ia Woolf’s Suicide Note

 

                Some love lasts. Most don’t.

                Two years. It was colorful two years. And yet… and yet she decided to let go of him. It wasn’t that their love faded. It wasn’t that her love faded. It never did. Never will. But as she looks at herself, she knows she wanted to escape. She wanted to go somewhere. And he does not deserve to wait and suffer. He deserves so much more. And too bad because that “more” is not her. And will never be here.

                She was selfish enough to have him. She felt selfish. But selfishness is normal. It’s what people do to preserve themselves. And now she’s being selfish again. Because not only that she wants to save herself, she wants to save him, too.

                He didn’t ask why. He didn’t cry. But the moment she left him, he did. And maybe it was his fault that he loves her way too much that he wouldn’t… or couldn’t even ask why she decided to let go. Maybe because he knows that there’s a reason. She never acted without thinking. And maybe that was his fault, too. He rarely asked about what she’s thinking. He rarely asked why. He just let her be. Because he loves her.

                And she loves him, too.

                But there are certain things that you will realize along the way. Love works. It really does. But what most people don’t realize is that it works differently. It works differently for all of us. And letting him go is how love works for her. To save him from her. Because he deserves so much more. More. More.

                If you only loved once, you have nothing to compare to. But maybe you don’t need something to compare to. Maybe because when you truly love, you don’t compare it. You live by it every single day thinking that it was the best love. And years later, for her, she still sees the image him smiling brightly at her, him allowing her to have her own space, him listening to her rants, him being himself… and him letting her be.

                So when she actually saw him doing it to someone else, the walls that she built up for the memory of him crashed. It was no longer hers. The memories belong to someone else. Someone who deserve… him. And maybe this is the tiest story of love in the history but some people have to realize that there are people who can’t push it. Sometimes they think too little of themselves, and think so beautifully of other people. Sometimes they just know. Because the rational part of their mind isn’t working anymore. They’re clouded by thoughts, of insecurities. Sometimes they want more for themselves that they know for a fact that their beloved also needed something more. More. What a stupid word. We can never have enough, but also we can never have more.

                And he thought he saw her. Her. Maybe it was just a stupid hallucination. But he is sane. Sane enough to function well that he couldn’t be experiencing any hallucinations. He’s not on drugs. But that sure felt like it when he thought he saw her. Hair still long, glasses still thick, small frame is still the same, and then his mind… oh his mind. His mind is betraying him again. It has been years… but he can still remember the light in her eyes whenever she talks about things she loves, the smile on her face when she thought of something evil, her laugh when she laughed at his puns, her unexpected acts of… sweetness—because she generally is not a sweet person. And most especially her love. She will forget to text him good night and ask him if he had eaten, she will always lost track of time when she’s busy with her fangirl duties and forget about his whole existence but he will never forget how she remembers her favorite pizza topping or how he wants his coffee dark and tea sweet. He will never forget how she let him do things he wanted to do, how she never stopped him from telling his puns when everyone else told him to shut up. And most especially, how much he loved her. Or loves. Because he doesn’t really know. He can’t even hear his own voice sometimes. He’s lost.

                He has someone else now. And that person is beautiful inside out. But then, not in million years that she will be her. He is not even sure if he misses the memories or her or both. But there’s one thing for sure… once upon a time, there was a girl whose name he doesn’t even know but made him feel things. And when he got to know her, including her name, his world shifted in 360 degrees. He does not own his galaxy anymore because he handed it over to someone who knows how to run it. And today, this person in front of him can’t even be compared to her. But he stopped himself. He shouldn’t be comparing.

                She is his biggest what if. That stupid what if that people always talk about. What if they’re still together? Huh, life has its funny way of making someone feel sad.

                “Mark,” he’s suddenly back to his senses, “Are you okay? Are you dizzy…? You look so lost for a while.”

                “I’m okay, M. Really.” Momo is… a great person. And maybe that’s the main reason why he’s with her. He also have a tad bit of love for the girl. Or maybe… he had learned to love her. Maybe. He doesn’t know. When she left, he doesn’t know who he is. He lost his bible, his spirit guide… so he wandered and met this person. “I just… I thought I saw someone I know.”

                “A girl?”

                “What?”

                “You thought you saw her?”

                “Excuse me?”

                “I saw her. You’re not making up things in your mind.”

                “W…wh—yes. I thought I saw her.” And so he actually saw her. “How did you know about her?”

                “You have a picture of her in your apartment.”

                “Th..at. Oh, sorry. I… it was there for so long that I forgot to—”

                She smiled, “You really don’t have to worry about it.” And maybe this is how he learned to love her. “What’s her name?”

                “Wendy.” There. He said it. It finally rolled in his tongue after so many years. The way he said her name? Still the same. Like it was the most beautiful named he ever heard. “She’s Wendy.”

                “Who is she?” Why do you have to ask?, he thought. You might hate me if I tell you the truth.

                “Just… someone.”

                “I will not push it… but do tell me about her next time.”

                He sighed in relief and gave Momo a grateful smile. This girl… yes. Maybe he should hand over his heart to this girl. Completely.

                To compare is another story. So maybe he should give himself a chance to fully move on. But moving on doesn’t mean forgetting someone. Moving on means you’re just giving yourself a chance. Another chance. Because everyone deserves a second chance.

                Chances… as she looks at the two, she can’t help but smile. She took the chance in giving him a happier life. And here he is now. So maybe she should give herself a chance to move on, too.

                Once upon a time, she’s looking at a boy other than her beloved DAY6 and her first hopeless crush. Once upon a time, she can’t stop thinking about him. And once upon a time, she broke her own rules. She let herself fall. She experienced love… and pain that always comes with it. tasted bitter she might throw up. She regret letting him go, but she will regret even more if she didn’t. Right. Because he deserved more. And that girl he’s having lunch with is his more.

                He is her everything. Up to now, he is her world. She smiles with the thought of him, she feels happy knowing that somewhere… he might be actually happy. Because just like what he told him, she wants his happiness. More than anything else, she wants his happiness. And the only way she knows how to give him that is to let him go.

                Let. Him. Go.

                Hearts don’t break. At least for most cases. But they do ache. And you can blame it to your brain. They say that science can’t explain why our chest feels this aching feeling when we get said but biopsychology says otherwise. That pain in our chest is felt because we have been conditioned that way—that emotions are felt in there. So when we feel something emotionally painful, what our brain does is interpret the pain to come from our chest and then it sends signals to the body that gives us that kind of physical sensation. And that’s exactly what her brain is doing at the moment.

                To say that she hates it is an understatement.

That same night, she slept with tears in her eyes. And when she woke up, a poet was born.

 

“To want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain. And then to want and not to have- to want and want- how that wrung the heart, and wrung it again and again!” 
― ia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

 

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“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.” 
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

 

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Thank you for reading! Mistakes are all mine.