2. Desperately

 

Song recommendation: 8 Letters by Why don't we

 

Kim Yongsun

 

I awoke the following morning, my throat raspy and an insistent pounding at my temples. Groaning, I shift the covers off my torso before sliding out of bed. Unintentionally, I looked to the left side of the bed, where the sight of the covers neatly tucked into the end of the bed met my sleep-bleary eyes. And for the umpteenth time since that day five years ago, a momentary panic and confusion hit me, until I remembered the horrifying truth: you were simply gone.

 

And maybe I should have learnt my lesson all those mornings waking up to a cold bed, but I didn’t. Because what could let me see the truth, and resign to it, than the cruel method of experiencing the loss of it all over again?

 

Perhaps Byul was right after all, and I was secretly a masochist.

 

“Ow!” I yelped.

 

“Be careful, ugh, I thought I told them to dethorn the roses.” Byul had said, worry flashing over her delicate features, “give me your hand.”

 

I gave her my hand tentatively, wincing a little from the pain.

 

But what she did next made me forget all about the prick, when I felt the moist warmth that enveloped my finger. Byul had placed my finger in , lightly on the wound to remove the blood.

 

“B-byul!” I’d exclaimed then, pulling my hand away, before flushing a deep shade of amber.

 

“What?” Byul had said, attempting to retrieve my hand, as if it were the most natural thing to do, “I’m tending to your cut.”

 

“No-” I retorted, feeling the tips of my ears heating up, “it’s okay, I'll take care of it later.”

 

She'd raised a brow at me then, a smirk tugging at the side of her lips, “You don't strike me as a masochist, Yong, you surprise me every time.”

 

At this, I'd blushed harder, before the familiar warmth of her arms encircled my waist, pulling me into a deep kiss.

 

“Don't worry, I don't intend to let anyone know,” she'd said, her lips travelling the edge of my jaw, growling, “you're mine.”

 

And I was, and I still am. Forever and always.

 

If only she were still here to make the claim valid.

 

I remember the months leading up to her horrifying revelation, her cold demeanor both confusing and frustrating me. She'd always been a very affectionate girlfriend, and her acting any way other than how she usually was was an entirely new experience for me.

 

“Byul?” I said into the phone, before I was met with the prerecorded message of her voice mail, my voice meeting my own ear as the message we recorded together sent a jolt of sadness through me.

 

“Byulyi-ssi is not available right now,” a torrent of high pitched giggles assaulting my ear. “Yongsun!” A thud, and more giggles, before Byul's warm voice came over the receiver, “leave a message if it's urgent! Yah- unnie-” The line went out with a beep.

 

Byul had been much more detached as of late, she no longer showered me with kisses when she returned home, choosing instead to retract into the guest room we had, and she never surprised me occasionally with flowers anymore.

 

But it wasn't about the flowers, it was never about the flowers. She had put up her walls against me, and I was none the wiser about her reasons.

 

I was simply a stranger living in the same house. She had moved out of our shared bedroom, into the guest room next to it.

 

(this is when the fissures started to show)

 

“Why are you acting like this?” I'd pleaded with her, desperation lining my words, “was it something I did, or said? Talk to me, baby.”

 

But she'd responded with a, “it's not you, Yongsun, it's me.”

 

“What do you mean??”

 

“I just need some time alone to think about it,” she replied, before closing the door on me.

 

But then I'd also noticed the bruise-coloured bags beneath her eyes, and the way her bones now pushed against her skin, a pale sallow look coming over her features.

 

When you spend that much time thinking about someone, or looking at them, you tend to notice many things. And I was concerned.

 

When I was reaching my breaking point, I asked her. She'd been avoiding me, only returning home at the break of day. So I'd waited for her, grasping her wrist, (were her wrists always this thin? I didn't think so, but when she stopped telling me things, she'd stopped touching me too. And words would not have been enough to show how much I yearned for her touch.) turning her around to face me.

 

“We need to talk,” I started, prepared to fight her if need be.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Look, you can't just avoid m-” I paused, before doing a double-take, “wait you said okay…”

 

“I can't do this anymore, Yong,” she'd said then, her voice cracking, and I felt tears rise up my throat, “I'm tired.”

 

“Tell me,” I begged, “What's been going on, Byul?”

 

“I love you, you know?” she continued, a sudden confession, the vulnerable tone of her breaking my heart in two, “so, so much.”

 

“So why?” Why why why why, why?

 

“I'm sick, Yong,” she'd said then, tears spilling over her cheeks like a broken dam, “I- I have stage four ovarian cancer.”

 

“You deserve so much more,” she continued, “but I'm too selfish.”

 

“I can't bear the thought of you with anyone else.”

 

(this is when the fissures started to deepen, working into fully formed cracks)

 

“What do you mean you're sick, Byul?” I asked, desperately clinging onto her arm, “you're not playing a prank on me, are you? Because if you are, you succeeded, okay? Tell me you're lying to me,” I pleaded with her.

 

“I'm- I'm not lying Yongsun,” she replied, “I'm really, truly sick.”

 

And then the reality of the situation collided with whatever false hope I'd held on to, stripping me of all my defenses.

 

“I love you Byul,” I started to cry, “what are you saying? What are you implying?”

 

That night we fell asleep together on the couch, both of us exhausted both emotionally and mentally. I slept soundly with the warmth of Byul finally in my arms again.

 

As if I could hold onto her warmth, as if it were a tangible thing I could see and possess, as if I could make it last if I just tried hard enough.

 

But I guess my best wasn't enough.

 

The first time I accompanied her to her appointment at the nearby hospital, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic permeated the air, the underlying smell of death assaulted my senses.

 

The doctor's diagnosis and explanation of her condition was as clear to me as the bottom of a muddy lake was to a fisherman, but one thing was clear. Byul's death was inevitable.

 

She had exactly five months left. We had five months left together.

 

We walked home that day, her fingers intertwined in mine, a stifling silence settling over us.

 

Just before we reached our apartment, she paused, looking down at the gravelly ground of the pavement. “You know,” she started uneasily, speaking uncharacteristically quietly, “I’m sorry for asking you to come along today.”

 

I took her other hand, pulling her to face me, “Why are you sorry?”

 

“I just- I'm a sick person, Yong. I only have five months to live.” Byul looked exhausted, her eyes beginning to well up.

 

“Then I'll make sure you enjoy your last five months, every single moment of it.” I said, pulling her in to press a kiss gently, at the side of her jaw.

 

“Thank you for loving me, Yong. I'm sorry I'm so selfish.”

 

I silenced her words with a kiss on the sidewalk, not caring if anyone saw us. I would make a lifetime of memories in our last five months, or die trying. Moon Byulyi wasn't the only selfish one in this relationship.

 

The phone rings, a loud, incessant sound, drowning out my thoughts. I amble over, greeting the person with a “Hel-”, before I am cut off with a familiar voice, the tone tinny over the phone receiver. “Yongsun unnie? This is Whee In-”, a muffled shout, “-and Hyejin!”, before Whee In continues, “it's been a long time since we hung out...want to grab a drink?”

 

There's nothing I’d rather do, I assure her, before we agree on meetup details and hang up.

 

Half an hour later, I find myself sitting opposite a fresh-faced beauty with short, cropped, blonde hair, and a femme fatale beauty, with long, wavy black hair.

 

A dimple smiles at me from Whee In’s cheek, before the person to which the dimple belonged to greeted me enthusiastically. “Unnie!!! I!!! Missed!!! You!!!”

 

A pair of skinny arms reached up to wrap me in a vice tight hug, and I feel the younger girl snuggling into the hug. I smile, because who could resist Jung Whee In's shows of affection?

 

“I missed you guys too,” I assured her, extending my arms out to Hyejin, who joined our hug, forming a group hug.

 

“We’ve been meaning to catch up for a long time now,” Hyejin said, breaking away from our three-man island, “but we just couldn't find the time to do so.”

 

I nod in understanding. It's been the same with me.

 

“We really should have made time to accompany you to Byul unnie’s memorial but…” Whee In trails off, a look of guilt flashing across her delicate features.

 

“It's okay,” I said

 

(even though it was not)

 

softly, “Byul would've understood.”

 

She bites her lower lip uneasily, before Hyejin shatters the uncomfortable atmosphere, “So anyway, how are you?”

 

I give them a quick rundown on how I've been doing, making sure to leave out the details of the melancholy that still plagued me from time to time, especially near her death.

 

“You're not okay,” Whee In intones.

 

“I'm okay,” I reply carefully.

 

“You're not.” Hyejin says, “you may rather we not say it, but we've known each other for too long unnie, it's been five years, and you've never been able to find closure.”

 

Damn these two brats, I thought, maybe I should have disowned them from the start.

 

“I- I want to find it too,” I say awkwardly, “closure, but I don't know how.”

 

“How about you tell us about your last few months together?” Whee In suggests, “that might help.”

 

This time the wave of memories comes more easily, words spewing out of my mouth before I know it.

 

“Make yourself a bucket list,” I demanded of her, sliding a pen and paper over to Byul, “I'll make sure I fulfil every single one of them.”

 

“Well, actually…” Byul started hesitantly, “I did make a bucket list.”

 

I looked at her intently, my expression immediately betraying my curiosity. “Where is it? I want to help you fulfill as many things on it as soon as possible.”

 

“But there's a part that…” Byul said, before trailing off hesitantly, then continuing again, “I'll go fetch it.”

 

She got up and stalked off to our room, and I failed to resist the urge to tap her before she got too far. “Hurry up, Moonbyul-ssi!”

 

She returned with a piece of A4 sized paper with the end slightly torn off. I scanned through the list, the whole thing comprising of 20 agendas, each neatly demarcated with a number to the left of it.

 

“What's this portion?” I asked, pointing to the torn off part of the paper.

 

“Oh, it was already torn when I took it, so…” she shrugged nonchalantly. Doubt flashed in my mind, but I ignored it.

 

There were many things on the list, majority of which held my name, things like ‘3. Visit Switzerland with Yong’ and others like ‘5. Write a song for Yong’.

 

Tear pricked at my eyes at the sight, but I managed to stop myself from getting all mopey. I had to be strong, if only for Byul.

 

“Looks like you've planned out most of it,” I said, glancing at her, smiling a little when her cheeks flushed red.

 

“Well...yeah, I've been wanting to do them since forever so.” she grinned at me, her nose scrunching up in her signature smile.

 

“What are we waiting for? Let's get started!”

 

-

“What was the first thing you guys did?” They started to sound more like kids each passing moment.

 

“Hold on, I'm getting to that part.”

-

 

“We should start with the easier things to fulfill,” I said, looking to Byul for confirmation. She nodded, peering over my shoulder at the list.

 

I trail my finger down the list, until it stopped at a simple option. ‘6. Bring Yong to an amusement park.’

 

She looked up at me in anticipation. “Shall we?”

 

The very next day, at half past eight in the morning we trooped to the Lotte World amusement park in Seoul, where we'd always wanted to go but never had the chance to.

 

I had insisted that we wore our couple hats, smiling at the sight of Byul's hat, which read 'Crush on you’ and smiled more at the knowledge that my own cap read 'U’.

 

She'd pretended to protest, but I'd caught the small smile that spread across her face before she turned away, and I knew she loved it too.

 

“What shall we go on first?” she smiled, her excitement bringing out the childish side of her that was underneath her usual cool façade.

 

I shrugged, a little intimidated by all the rides. Most of them towered over us, the flashy spectrum of colours making my head spin. I gulped, warily eyeing the biggest rollercoaster in the vicinity. 'Definitely not that one, I hope,’ I thought.

 

Just then, a mischievous look descended upon Byul's face. “What about that one?” she said, smiling innocently, her finger pointing straight at the rollercoaster.

 

“W-well,” I my parched lips.

 

“C’mon Yong...it'll be a fast one,” she scrunched her nose up in her signature smile, that one indent beneath her eye grinned at me from its spot. “Plus, you only live once right?”

 

God knows I can't deny her when she smiled at me like that.

 

Ten minutes later I find myself buckled onto a rollercoaster seat, the damned thing crawling slowly to the top. “Byul-ah, b-byul,” I said, reaching for her hand next to me, “w-wait-”

 

Then with a jerk and a loud screech, the rollercoaster plummeted down its tracks.

 

My voice box exploded with deafening shriek.

 

“AAaAAAaaAaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhHHhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH MOON BYUL YI yAaAHHHHHHHHHHHH”

 

I think I screamed louder on that single ride than I had ever done in my entire life.

 

When the ride ended, I got off feeling as if all my energy had been drained. I looked to Byulyi, and saw that her face was scrunched up in pain.

 

“Byul? Are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

 

“Yeah, it's just… Yong… I think you burst my eardrums,” she said, rubbing her ear in mock hurt.

 

“Heol! You were the one who made me ride this… monstrosity!” I exclaimed.

 

“But you still agreed, didn't you?” she'd said, smooshing my cheeks together, cooing at the sight of my plump cheeks.

 

How could I ever have denied her?

 

-

“Aw man I feel so bad for Byul unnie,” Whee In says, her hand gripping Hyejin’s one as they double over, laughing.

 

“Listen-” I protest, “it was really scary okay.”

 

“Whatever you say ma'am!” Hyejin says, sputtering in laughter again.

-

 

We spent the entire day at the amusement park, taking photographs and buying keychains as little keepsakes.

 

At the end of the day, when the vivid blue sky transitioned to a peachy pink colour before darkening rapidly into a pitch black, she turned to me, excited.

 

“Unnie, there's a fireworks show today,” she said, awed, “let's go watch it!”

 

I agreed readily.

 

We found ourselves a comfortable spot on a bench, and Byul spread a cloth over the seat before she allowed me to sit. (That was one of my favourite things about her, always such a gentlewoman!)

 

When the fireworks show started up, the blinding sparks colouring the night sky with a loud boom, I watched Byul admire it intensely, her eyes trained on it.

 

But try as I could all I could see was her.

 

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” she whispered in awe.

 

“Yeah, beautiful…” I said, still looking at her.

 

She caught me staring at her, turning around, before a light pink tint dusted her cheeks.

 

“Why aren't you watching the fireworks show, you dummy?” she asked.

 

“You’re so much more captivating than any fire works to me, Byul.”

 

She flushed a bright red, turning away, pretending to sulk. “I'm in charge of bringing on the grease, Yongsun.”

 

“I learnt from the best,” I said with a mock salute.

 

“Well, then the best has more things to teach you,” she said, turning around so I could catch the glint in her eye.

 

Then, before I could resist, she pulled me into a kiss.

 

“Thank you for today.”

 

-

“Eek what happened next?” Whee In asks, perching on the edge of her seat.

 

“In ah,” Hyejin said, patting her best friend on the head, “that's not for us to know.” She leans in to Whee In and says in a mock whisper, “it's R18.”

 

“Hey!” I smack Hyejin on the arm.

 

“Come on, unnie, let's move on to the next thing you guys did… it's not getting earlier.” Whee In says, blushing.

 

“Well, okay, but it's a long story.”

-