You know what’s not fair? Being left behind.
               

                Ever since that talk about the separation came about, our life as a family has never been the same. I never hear from Changmin or Yunho anymore. Yoochun tries to keep cool about it, but his increase of cigarette consumption betrays him more than he cares to admit. Jaejoong will only smile, but that’s just how much he hurts. Junsu… well… he laughs, he smiles… but he never says anything.

                And then, there’s me. Me. That little insignificant person who’s been with them the whole darn time. I keep their schedules on time. I keep them out of trouble. I keep the motivated… and for what? For them to throw everything out of the window. I was their little sister (more like mother, more like it) but at the end of it all… the family was broken as if it wasn’t of value at all.

                I can’t say I’m mad though.  I’m sort of… grieving. It’s like someone died and I still can’t get over it. When I wake up in the morning to text all of them “Good Morning!”, I find myself typing in Yunho’s and Changmin’s numbers as well still. I still set five plates on the table. I sometimes stay up all night waiting for them to come home only to realize that… they might never walk through that door ever again. Others say that I’m in denial, that I should just accept what is… but history has proven a lot of things false when everyone was so willing to accept it as true.

                Maybe I am a tad bit mad… but I can’t seem to feel it. I keep missing them more than me getting mad at them. I miss them more than I could ever get mad at them all in a lifetime.

                I still hope, though. I still hope that someday, they walk through that door. All five of them. Complete. Happy. Whole.

                We’d be a family again.

                It will be just like they were never gone.

                That is… if they ever come back.