He was… special; different, and very unexplainable. I wish I had the words for him, but the closest thing would be peculiar. He was this cryptic, enigmatic, incomprehensible, absurdly beautiful man that I was afraid to get close to because he wasn’t what was considered normal and I wasn’t okay with that. I wasn’t okay with being close to him physically or emotionally and I definitely wasn’t okay with falling so blindly and so hard for him.

But I did, and it was terrifying. He was so sweet and nice and romantic and he did everything I asked him to do without question, almost like he loved me back, and it was terrifying when commitment crept closer. He was too sweet, too nice, too romantic and far too willing to be with someone like me. He’s made me cry a few times because of how nice he was, but I wasn’t worthy of him no matter how many times he told me I was.

 

He always tried so hard to make me happy, buying me everything I wanted and doing anything to make me smile; remembering all the dates that I forgot and planning all the romantic dinners that I told myself I didn’t have the time for but stayed for anyway; reminding me constantly to take care of myself and not to work too late because I tend to neglect myself from overwork and he hates not being able to talk to me when the sun’s out because I’m sleeping; he tried so hard to make me fall harder than I already had and I don’t know if that was his plan or if it was just an inevitable outcome from how he was acting.

 

Honestly, I miss him. He’s not dead, he’s just… not here anymore. We broke up a while ago. Was it… two years? Maybe three? I can’t remember. He probably does, he could probably tell you the exact time we broke up. I remember when I told him, I couldn’t tell him over text because I knew I could never provide him the closure over text, and how broken he looked when reality crashed over. I… hadn’t realised how deeply he was in love with me, and I didn’t realise how hard I had already fallen for him at that time. I mean, I didn’t think it was as serious as I realised a week after the breakup, and I broke a little on the inside every time someone would ask me about him or talk about him.

Maybe it was the age difference between us, six years can be quite a lot, and I didn't think I could take it even though he reassured me it was perfectly fine- that I wasn't a kid to him and that yes, I was his equal no matter what. Though, I still pressured myself to be a bit more mature, a bit more grown up because he was older by more than a couple of years and I didn't want to embarrass him with the possibility of having a child for a girlfriend.

Or maybe it was because we were too different. Opposites don't always attract, people aren't magnets especially when we're in relationships. He loved... taking risks, dancing, moving, making others happy while he was lost in his own world. I on the other hand, I prefered sitting down and writing, drawing, listening to music and taking in the lyrics while he moved to the beat. I wasn't a happy person, cyanide laced my every word and thought, but he made me... smile, every day in fact. He's the type of person that even the Grim Reaper couldn't be mad at- he takes everything that comes at him with the widest grin you would ever see.

Maybe that's why, when I told him it was over, and he looked so... broken and lost that I could feel my heart sinking into the depths of my stomach. He's never looked as miserable before, not after any strenuous practice or after major concerts or after anything goes wrong- he's just always smiling or, at most, confused. Not broken; not crying and not trying to force a smile just so he could wish me well and leave his last memory with him being as accepting as possible.

I think that's what broke me. I'm not the type of person who felt empathy for everyone- I find it hard to relate to someone else. But when he started crying, I could feel a part of me breaking down, almost as if the walls from a cynical childhood was being torn down by a man who was... forcing himself to leave our relationship behind. It wasn't easy, I could barely look at him when he told me it was alright, and that he was willing to do this much if it made me happy. Honestly, it didn't- I didn't want to let someone like him go because he treated me right and made me feel like I belonged somewhere.

But I told myself I wasn't worth it; that all his love and affection was being wasted on someone who couldn't return it or even appreciate it. It was painful sometimes, seeing him around on the TV, promoting his newest single or doing another variety show. He is an idol, and I can't escape that no matter how much I want to. I mean, it wasn't as if seeing him again was unpleasant. It was a welcomed change sometimes for my otherwise boring life. Of course, it was still painful seeing him on TV.

And seeing him face-to-face, it reminds me of how painful it really was leaving a lover that made me so happy.

And how painful it still is.

What were those Taylor Swift lyrics?

And I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are. Hope it's nice where you are.
And I know the sun shines every beautiful day, and it reminds me, I wish I had stayed.
I can plan for a change in weather and time, but I never planed on me changing my mind.

That's wrong, but it feel more right.

I walked over to the counter when the barista called my name, quickly wiping away the gathering tears with the sleeve of my shirt and thanking the man behind the counter when I took my coffee. I sipped it, looking down at my shoes so no one could see the tears b around my eyes, and took a deep breath when I got back to my seat.

I almost didn't notice the new writing on my notebook.

I still love you, you know.

I looked up, seeing him with a pen twriling between his fingers, and sighed while shaking my head. I picked up my own pen, writing down my reply and sliding it across the table and back to him.

Why are you still waiting for this sort of unhappy relationship?

What he wrote he shocked me though it really shouldn't have.

Because I love you, and I was very happy during the relationship. I'm sure you were too, no matter how many times you told yourself you weren't.

He was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for.

You read everything.

Not everything, just most of it. And I miss you too, a lot more than you could ever know.

I glanced up at him from underneath my lashes, not being able to look him in the eye because of how sweet he was being again and how unfair it was that he was playing with the walls around my heart.

Please, Jongup, I can't keep doing this with you. It's not right.

To who? I love you, and I'll tell you that everyday even if you don't believe me. I've loved you four years ago, through the three years we've been apart, and I will continue loving you on my deathbed.

You're being ridiculous and you know that.

Only because I'm madly in love with you.

You deserve someone better.

Than you? I doubt I could find her.

I chuckled a bit at that, swallowing the lump in my thorat that made me want to tear up again because damn it, he was making this a lot more painful that it was supposed to be.

Why are you being so sweet to me?

Because I love you. And I would rather die than leave you angry.

I looked down at his response, biting back my lip. I didn't have a response to that, what was I supposed to say? That it was the same for me? That I could never get angry at him because he was who he was? That I would rather break him than stay with him and slowly watch his suffer with the woman that doesn't even deserve him?

I watched the book be slid away from me and I couldn't help the few tears that hit the table.

Can you please give us a second chance? I'll treat you better, please.

Jongup, it's not you. You were perfect and I wasn't and I'm still not. Jongup, you need a woman who's actually worthy of you, and that's not me.

But you are perfect, and you are very worth it. I know you are so please, just one more chance for a romance. I'll do better.

You're not the problem.

If I can't convince you that you're worth it, I am. If I can't convince you that you're perfect, I am. You are the most wonderful and perfect woman in my life and I can't go any longer without you, so please take me back. Just once more.

I looked up at him when he slid the book back to me. His eyes were pleading, brows tensed together and lips in a frown, teetering on a pout. I read what he wrote once more, picking up my pen to give him my final reply.

Fine.

I watched him read my reply with a wide smile, closing the book and picking it up along with my coffee. I looked up at him in with a raised brow, wanting to tell him off but he had that stupid bright smile on his face and I couldn't help the words dying in my throat.

“Come on, we're going on a proper first date.”

And I couldn't help the same stupid smile that crept up my lips.