Stress

Artist: Kim Taeyeon

 

 

 

It’s Y’s point.

 

 

••———

 

 

Never once I have stopped caring. Not once did I ever thought of pushing my heart back to stop beating. Broken down and lenient on her breath, I managed to get back up by the sound of her voice telling me to stay. Telling me she loves me but every-time, each second that it takes me to believe is all that it needs for me to love her again.

 

That night when the moon is hidden behind the gray clouds, I stared right back at my phone. There are promises that she did not kept again. I saw him, the man that I was the most insecure of. He could give a lot, like a lot. The love, I know he likes her. The money, and most of all the family that I could never give.

 

 

I wiped a lone tear that fell, making me smile for a while. Remembering those times where she would just barge into my apartment with her things packed in her small rucksack. Those gleaming eyes after a heated love making just makes me miss her more.

 

 

The tenth time that I had checked my phone, I grew tired of the notifications popping nothing. It’s like I am waiting for her without the assurance that she indeed wants to come back with me. 

 

 

So I slept. I am tired.

 

 

 

____

 

 

Dreamless nights are a rarity, at least for me. Like movies encrypted in the shade of black and white, always on the loop. It is a never ending scenario of me walking away. A deep variation of in depth meaning that I can’t decipher. For as long as I am reluctant to believe the existent of a phenomena of the supernatural, I’ll disregard this as a message. Dubbing it  as a nightmare is better.

 

 

The lights dimmed in the soft ray of the sunlight bathing me with all the heat. I grabbed my cellphone by the nightstand despite my soar eyes, if she still cares then she would’ve practically call or text her girlfriend right?

 

 

“Got held up. Tyler oppa needs to meet his friends. Are you asleep?”

 

 

 

A text is not enough to make me a jealous beast, however the situation itself is enough to make me go off the lines of my patience.

 

 

I know it is dawn in there, but I need assurance. She loves sleep, that girl. But if she is what she says to be, she would cram her way out of the cozy mattress and talk to me. Her voice is the only consolation, the hazy lights of my perspective of our relationship is starting to blind me. 

 

 

In what sense I am holding on for? For the promise? Our promise? My love for her? Her love for me? 

 

 

We are running in circles. Chasing smoke with every puff of lies we say to each other. 

 

 

 

I love you Yuri.

 

 

Hold on for a little more.

 

 

Why are you with her again?

 

 

I love you. Don’t leave me.

 

 

Mornings are supposed to start new things, perhaps opportunities. Bent mistakes and hard punched wrongs can be made straight with only a 24 hour of working things out.

 

 

I started my day. With her again.

 

 

 

“Yuri?”

 

 

I turned around on the hush of the voice. 

 

 

“When?” I dropped my mask in a brief moment of silence as I stare into her cheerful eyes. 

 

 

“Surprise?”

 

 

——

 

 

 

We watched that famous movie, popcorns and all normalities. Her soft hair and the alluring smell of it lay rested on my chest as I wrapped my arms around her fragile frame. 

 

 

“How is bad is your injury?” She started. I didn’t tell her that I needed the surgery for I am currently demanding my brain to love myself first. I don’t want her to worry. 

 

 

“Fine.” 

 

That moment when she locked her eyes on me, I know she wants the truth.

 

 

“It needs surgery. Nothing serious.”

 

 

“I am sorry I can’t be there with you.” Caressing my face in a soft hold, she leaned in for a peck on my lips. Even if I desire some more, if that is all that she had to give. I’ll give in eventually.

 

 

“How is the football match?” And the diversion Came.

 

 

And then the barrage of story telling and animated gestures arises, burying my little desire for her attention in the pits of her worry list. I cried softly. I didn’t had the time to tell my eyes to stop because I am hurting too much.

 

 

“Are you crying?” Baffled she asks.

 

 

I didn’t answer.

 

 

 

——

 

It’s J’s point.

 

••————-

 

 

She got off me after I came. She never locked eyes with me when I tried so hard to, I need her eyes on me when we are making love.

 

The shimmering sweat ran tediously underneath her lidded eyes, I went up to kiss it with my lips, lingering down her eyelids and finally her lips. Her reciprocation came in late, ending with a soft sigh and a kiss on my forehead. 

 

I noticed how much she tried to make my satisfaction in the brinks of delirium in a fast way of being absolute. If only she knew how heavenly she can make me feel. However she knew. Yuri knew. That I want it slow, little by little. Small amount of greatness means a longevity of everything that I ever desired.

 

 

 

 

“Yuri. Is there something wrong?”

 

 

 

“No. Let’s sleep Sica.”

 

 

 

and exposed in front of the girl that I love has never been this painful. Ashamed of such an unknown reason I buried myself in the back of her neck. My tears won’t fall, and maybe she might misunderstood this action as a brash act. Inconsiderate and almost too in denial. I know her pain. I know the pain she has been through, but I can’t say to hold on much longer when clearly her thumb slipped.

 

 

“Yuri, I love you so much.”

 

 

She never answered.

 

 

 

——

 

 

Y.

 

••———

 

 

The apartment is empty again, her scattered clothes are the only ones left to comfort me of my loss. I lost my opportunity to have a solo again, after the station, I believed I myself of being capable but it seemed like no one trusted me in that term. 

 

 

I picked up her clothes that is reeking of her fancy perfume, the underwear that she prefers to be colored black. Tastes in which caused a bunch of questions but I tried to understand anyway. 

 

 

They are together again. Hurts like hell. What more lies?

 

 

 

 

——-

 

 

“Yuri, I will go home tomorrow. Can you pick me up from the airport?”

 

 

“I can’t Sica, I have a schedule.”

 

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

 

“I’ll wait for you at home.”  

 

 

 

She ended the call with a disappointed sigh and I tried to behave my mouth from saying I love you. The surprise that I have planned is simple yet so overly cheesy I screamed. But then again, I guess I owe her for being an . 

 

 

I had my hair in a tight bun, a mask to hide my unacceptable appearance. Make up less horror that is my face. 

 

 

I bought a small cake from her favorite pastry shop. Jessica’s sugar level drops below sea level after a long hour flights.Just a few blocks away from my apartment. 

 

That kind of shop is where she becomes a glutton, ordering a bunch of donut boxes and eating it in front of my health nut facade. In the end, I have to kiss those icing away.

 

 

Those times.

 

 

I let my eyes linger on the couple who had their hands linked with each other, on this day, the trees bloomed into one of my favorite dancers. Swaying as it welcomes the breath of nature slowly creeping to say hi.

 

 

She held his hands tightly when the breeze reached, and he slowly guided the hand in his pockets kissing her forehead softly. The height difference is perfect I can squeal. And then I remembered the times when she is mine, yes she is still but I am overly crowded by my thoughts. Of where are we today, if the IS has never been one. If it is a WAS all this time.

 

 

 

My phone beeped. I answered it immediately. Jessica doesn’t like to wait.

 

 

“Yuri?”

 

 

“Yes. I’m here.”

 

 

“I can’t go today. I have something to arrange with my label first. It’s for the album and..”

 

 

“It’s alright. I’ll see you soon.”

 

 

“Yuri.”

 

 

“Hmmm.”

 

 

“I love you.”

 

 

“Take care Sica.”

 

 

 

I saw the first snowfall. Rolling down the sky with ease and I happened to lift my hands to catch one of the bundle of fluff. It slowly masked itself to my hands, gradually losing its white exterior and then turned into water. 

 

 

My heart is berating me like thousand of invisible knives. I am one hell of an option, wo