In the end I'm gonna be alright
But it might take a hundred sleepless nights
To make the memories of you disappear
But right now I can't see nothing through these tears
Out of sight but you're not out of my mind
So it might take somebody else at night
To make it feel like you were never here
But right now I can't see nothing through these tears

***

I didn't know when it started, when the disquiet settled into my heart. Life with you had become mundane, days blending into a routine. It felt like I was merely coexisting with someone who was supposed to be my girlfriend.

No, it wasn't your fault. You hadn't changed; perhaps that was the problem. I yearned for something new, something different, but I couldn't bring myself to ask you to change just for my selfish desires. Instead, I sought solace elsewhere, finding it in someone else's presence.

He was a fellow resident at the hospital, initially just another coworker. But when we were assigned to a project together, working closely, something shifted. Emotions stirred within me that I should have reserved only for you. I found myself looking forward to seeing him, anticipating our time together, forgetting the woman waiting for me at home.

He didn't know about you; I hadn't told him. I was embarking on a path I shouldn't have taken, but I couldn't stop myself.

When I finally mustered the courage to tell you, I expected your anger. I was prepared for your hatred, but I didn't anticipate the pain in your eyes, the devastation that mirrored my own turmoil. I couldn't explain my selfish reasons; I couldn't articulate the turmoil within me.

Amidst the shards of my betrayal, I realized I still loved you. That was the only certainty amidst the chaos of my emotions.

I'm undeniably selfish, keeping you with me despite the pain I inflicted. I chose to overlook the hurt in your eyes, the agony you tried to conceal behind a smile. I ignored the questions you asked, answering with affirmations of my love for you while I continued my affair.

I'm irredeemable because I hurt you each time I came home after spending time with him, knowing I was the cause of your anguish.

I don't know why, Seul. Perhaps I'm fundamentally flawed because I took you for granted.

But you're human, Seul. Despite your declarations of staying, of enduring my betrayal as long as I still loved you, I knew deep down, you were as vulnerable as anyone else. Human, like me, subject to breaking point.

I never anticipated your departure.

I never envisioned waking up to find you gone, your presence erased from our apartment, replaced by a vacant silence and a piece of paper on the table.

I never imagined the devastation that would engulf me upon realizing you had left.

You left me.

Reading your farewell letter shattered me, making me comprehend the gravity of my mistakes.

You left me after those seven days, days that showed me the person I once adored, the person who completed me. You left me when I finally understood the magnitude of my foolishness.

You left me.

I was too late.

Regret flooded my heart when I realized my folly, the pain magnified by the knowledge of what I had lost.

How could I do that to you, Seul? To someone who had only ever loved me, even with a heart fragmented by my actions?

I'm a wretched person.

I regretted it all, but it was too late.

You were gone from my life.

And in the days, weeks, months, and even years that followed, I mourned the love I had lost, drowned in the depths of my remorse.

*********

"Irene, care to join me for lunch? You've just finished a six-hour operation, and I know you haven't had any meals even before that," I looked up from the patient records I was reading when one of my closest fellow doctors burst into my office.

By then, I actually felt the hunger pang, reminded of the last time I had a proper meal. "Oh god, thank you for reminding me. I'll just tidy up my desk, and I'll join you, okay?"

"Sure, I'll just wait for you here," she said, getting comfortable while I organized the stack of papers on my desk.

"Gosh, Irene, it's not like we're lacking doctors here in the hospital, so how come it seems like every patient is assigned to you with the amount of work you do?" she commented.

"You know you've asked me that question several times before, right?" I glanced at her for a second, then continued what I was doing.

She groaned at my response. "I just don't get why you always insist on working more than required of you. Are you secretly killing yourself by overworking?"

I chuckled at her words. Sometimes, or actually a lot of times, she overreacted to everything. "Maybe," I playfully replied.

"Ugh, you're impossible. I swear I'm not gonna attend your funeral when you finally die because of overworking."

I shook my head and finished organizing the last papers in one of the drawers. "Come on, you're just hungry, and you tend to exaggerate when you don't have some food in your stomach."

Since we had some time before our next operation, and there was nothing urgent going on, we decided to go out for lunch. We drove to a restaurant not far from the hospital that served good food and settled at a table by the window.

"So, I heard that the new doctor transferred from Cardio invited you to dinner," she started after the waiter took our orders. "And as usual, you rejected him, again."

I raised my eyebrow. "Let me guess, you heard it from the nurses?"

"I heard it from everyone. Come on, news spreads quickly in this hospital, especially if it involves the most sought-after ice queen of the pediatrics department."

I rolled my eyes. Our hospital was full of people who loved to gossip, and I always seemed to be their favorite topic. Ever since I rejected that one doctor in my first year at the hospital, a