Love doesn’t hurt. Betrayal hurts, disappointment hurts, disapproval hurts, distrust hurts, but love, never hurts. How do I know? I’ve been hurting all my life, I have yet to experience love, so it must be good, right? Love itself, never hurts. Be careful who you give your love to. In my case, I needed someone to create that feeling in my heart, in my soul. Love doesn’t come easy; pain does, if you’re not willing to try. But sometimes… all you need… is a little bit of faith. Sadly, that was one of the things I did not have.
Five days passed and still no… him. Since our encounter, I hadn’t seen nor felt him. I told no one about my meeting with him, who was there to tell anyway? Who would care? The image of him haunted my dreams, I could barely sleep. The image of him standing out in the rain, hurting, was all too familiar. All too real. Since I met him, I distanced myself even more. I didn’t go out unless it was necessary. I didn’t talk to people unless it was necessary. A dark corner in my apartment became my sanctum, a place for me to gather my thoughts. My eyes were bloodshot, dark circles taunting them. My cheeks were hollow, but then again… hadn’t it always been that way? You could see the prominent veins all the way up my arms, bulging with blood, perhaps waiting to be shed?
Still in one of the dark corners of my apartment, I dropped to my knees, my eyes closing as a faint tear trickled down my tired face. A strong ray of light shone through the blinds, god only knew what I looked like in the sunlight. I never let the sun into my apartment. I felt like its happiness was taunting me, letting me know that I could never feel that kind of warmth provided by others. The sun provided artificial warmth, it was a lie. Just like everything else.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I cried silently. I had stopped believing in God a long time ago. I stopped believing in God the first time my father’s belt left its marks on my back. Slashing into my once radiant and honey glazed skin, drawing blood. The leather clawed its way into my flesh, leaving deep cuts and a smell of unfairness. I thought that was love. No. I was wrong. That was not love. Love does not hurt. I often questioned myself whether or not I was an exception. Was this the kind of love I was destined to feel? Destined to have, destined to carry on? No. I needed to break the cruel pattern. Leaving my old life behind was the best decision I’d ever made. Or was it? Here I was, all alone once again with no one to hold, no one to love.
I had no more tears to shed. The last one fell to the wooden floor, soundless but not painless. My tears represented me, transparent and merely one among millions. That’s why I isolated myself; I didn’t stand a chance in this world. Perhaps.. in the next one? In another world, maybe I would be living with a loving family, supporting parents, loving surroundings.
Picking up the paper knife next to me, I let it slide across my left wrist, not enough to cause pain, but just enough to see... if I could even feel anything physical anymore.  I watched as the knife went deeper, reaching my veins. When blood was visible, I dropped the knife. A single drop of blood fell to the floor, mixing with my tears. This wasn’t new to me. My stomach was the worst; scars were visible whenever I took off my shirt. I never looked at my body, I knew I would never approve. That’s why I didn’t have a mirror in the bathroom, only in the shop. I stood up and made my way to the kitchen. I the faucet, letting the cold water clean my wound. I turned if off and bandaged my wrist, promising like I always did, that I would never do it again. It was just a matter of time before it got out of hand. I wanted someone to stop me, to help me. But how could anyone when I didn’t even know what kind of help I wanted? What kind of help I needed? Junsu… I knew I should tell him, but what could he do? Put me on medication? No. That surely wouldn’t help. I needed something that could not be prescribed. Something that could not be learned nor taught. I needed something… emotional. I needed… love.
I went into my bedroom and feel backwards on the bed. It was already 5am, not too long till I needed to open the shop. Was this how I would live my life from now on? Before I could answer my own question, surprisingly enough, my phone rang. I slammed my hand onto the nightstand, looking for my cellphone.
“Yes?” I answered, my voice soar.
“Yunho? Is that you?”
“Junsu-ss—Err, I mean Junsu. Yes, it’s me. Why are you calling at this hour?”
“I wanted to let you know that Yoochun and I will be going out of town for a few days and we wanted to know if you wanted to come with us?”
“And you thought calling me at 5 in the morning would be an appropriate time for such a proposition?”
“Uh.. I’m sorry, it’s just that Yoochun found these REALLY cheap tickets to Japan and the flight leaves at 8am. Why he was on his computer at this hour, I do not know.”
I chuckled, my voice cracking. Junsu sensed this, “Yunho? H-Have.. you been crying?”
“What? What makes you think that?”
“Your voice… ”

“No, I just… you woke me up, that’s all.”

Lies.

“Oh okay, well I’m sorry about that. So what do you say, do you want to come with us?”

Yes.

“No, thank you. You and your husband should go alone.”

Don’t leave me here.

“Don’t be silly, Yunho. You need to get out of that apartment of yours! Come with us, eh?”

Please take me with you.

“I don’t think so…”

Insist.

“If you say so… I’ll call you again later, just to make sure.”

Don’t take no for an answer, I’m begging you.

“Don’t bother, Junsu. Have fun on your trip.”

“Okay… I’ll drop by before we leave. We’ll be gone for three days and in the meantime, Yoochun’s brother will be staying in our house.”

“Changmin?”

“That’s the one.”

“Okay…”

“I’ll leave you with a spare key, you know, just in case. Changmin is rather reckless, so unless you don’t mind, could you check up on him every once in a while?”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you so much!”

Please don’t leave me.

“I’ll talk to you later, Yunho. Bye!”

Don’t go.

“Bye Junsu. Give Yoochun my love.”

“Will do. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“No worries, I appreciate the offer.”

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Okay… Well, bye then.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead and so did my facial expression. I thought about what it would be like had I said yes. The corners of my lips twitched, was it a smile? A smile I didn’t deserve. I didn’t want to interfere. I didn’t want to be a burden. ‘But he asked you to come,’ my subconscious retorted. Sighing, I whispered, “And I don’t want to be in the way like I always am.”
Suddenly I remembered something. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the white rose petal. It was no longer white, no longer beautiful. It was black, it was dying, just like my heart. I remembered what the rose petal felt like when I first touched it. Its surface was smooth; it felt like… his skin.

Are you coming back?