they always tell you to never forget the dead.

to carry on with their memories along your hopes, to live on with your life with their past presence as a constant companion, and to just keep surviving when they could not.

but i ask, how can i keep living when a part of me died along with them? along with her?

all i would see is their lifeless eyes.

i try to forget that moment, those moments, but how could i forget when i gave up?

she used to be the only thing keeping me up. she used to be the one that came over to make me forget them. she used to be the one to tell me that everything was going to be okay, and that it wasn't my fault.

but everything was my fault. because i'm the only one left alive. i'm the only one who still remembers.

and now, she's gone too.

i'm all alone again.

 

.

 

i met her one bright day, when i had been walking back to my home from the hospital.

my head was lowered as i dragged my feet across the pavement, never lifting my gaze to see the clouds, the buildings, the sun.

i just kept walking, until i heard the train.

that's when i raised my head, to look at the long, moving train that seemed to go on for infinity. my ears thrummed slightly from the loud noise, but i was mesmerized by the never ending path the train was taking.

sometimes, he wished he could board that train, and just go.

but it was too late for that.

when the train no longer continued, i finally saw what was behind it.

a girl, young woman, dressed in different shades of blue.

she began to walk across the railways, hurried, looking to the side at the ongoing train. 

 

for some reason, i stayed still, staring after her. i watched her wavy hair become slight messy from the wind. i watched as she walked away, and she never once turned around.

but when i lowered my gaze again to the floor, i saw the notebook.

it was a plain, strawberry colored notebook that laid on the floor. i gazed back at her retreating figure, watching for a second as she got farther and farther away. 

(he should have let her go)

i heard the next train coming, the loud metal clanking against the railroads. i couldn't go back to my house.

i picked up the notebook, and ran after her.

 

.

 

 

would things have changed, had he just kept walking?

would she had survived, had she not crossed paths with him?

would she still be alive, had she not met him?

 

.

 

when people tell him that he is cursed, he simply smiles bitterly.

"i know," he always says.

 

. 

 

the night he lost her, he went back to his house.

he walked numbly to the bathroom, slowly taking off his suit. he the sink, closing his eyes to simply hear the sound of the rushing water. it almost made him imagine the sea, from so long ago.

opening his eyes, he looked up.

he stared straight at his reflection in the mirror.

the chance to change everything was right there.

he just had to take it.

with a sigh, he let a tear fall from his eye.

and with slight hesitation, he let his forehead fall against the cold mirror.

 

.

 

the next day was bright.

i woke up with a slight headache, one that went away with a cold cup of water.

that day, i followed my normal routine.

i went to the garden near the train tracks to pick some flowers, grabbing the ones that seemed to have the least time left.

clutched in my bag, i took them home with me.

before i knew it, i received that phone call.

 

.

 

(again)

 

.

 

(i can still see her, sometimes. when i'm walking back towards home, sometimes i'm overcome with the inexplicable feeling to just turn around.

and when i do, all i can see is her body sprawled in the middle of the road, with her eyes staring straight at me in a numb gaze.

all i can see are the bouquet of smeraldos laying on the harsh pavement, slowly being blown away by the wind. one by one.)

 

.

 

"hey, are we still up to met today?"

silence.

"oppa, are you there?"

"ah yes. i can't see you today. i'm not well."

"are you okay?"

a beat.

"i will be. i just need to rest."

"if you need anything, i'm here oppa."

"thank you."

"i hope you feel better. fighting! goodbye!"

"goodbye."

 

.

 

 

he stayed home that day.

the mirror was still there from where he had been changing clothes.

he stood in front of it, simply gazing back into his eyes.

then, he held out his hand and caught the flowers that were about to fall from the wooden table.

placing them back on the table, he looked at them for a moment. the six white flowers were so beautiful, so innocently pure, untainted from the cruelty of the world.

he wished those flowers could stay that way, alive and well, for all of eternity.

but like everything in this world, they must die someday too.

putting on a cap, he walked away from the mirror and the flowers.

he had done enough for today.

 

.

 

(he only wishes he could be like those flowers).

 

.

 

he woke up to the sun shining brightly through his windows, making his eyes burn slightly.

after stretching in the bed, he finally got up. he got changed into a simple shirt with jeans, and headed towards his daily routine.

outside, it was a beautiful day. not too windy, not too humid. just perfect.

he went to the garden to pick some new flowers, and held those tightly as he waited for the train to finish so he could cross.

the clouds above him looked like art itself, and he wished he could have brought his camera with him. they were worth remembering.

hearing that the train was getting a bit louder, he finally looked ahead again, sighing when it finally finished and he could begin to walk.

but his body was frozen, his eyes wide as he watched the same girl from his dreams, the same girl he tried so hard to save, walk towards him.

for a moment, his body was frozen in shock. he held his breath as she got nearer, and closed his eyes tightly, expecting her to recognize him.

it wasn't until that soft thud in the ground that finally made him open his eyes.

the red journal was in the ground again, and she was walking away, again.

this was a choice, another choice, all over again.

should he go back for her, or just keep walking forward?

could he let her go, after everything?

he looked at her fading figure, feeling a strange heaviness in his chest.

he picked up the journal, and walked towards his home, away from her.

 

.

 

he never saw her again.

 

.

 

and for her, kim seokjin never existed in her memories.

 

.

 

"though many seasons pass, there are places that cannot be reached. yet another storm to be faced and to be weathered on head-on. loving without fear, hesitating and parting, merely living as the person i am.” - seokjin, love yourself highlight reel