♫ Sorry (Dear. Daddy)
Read: Music
"Sorry, sorry.So hard to say I'm sorry.Sorry, I'm sorry.I can't say anything other than this."
"We're arrived," Yoseob stops the car right in front of the white, small but beautiful house. He steps out from the car at the same time with me.
He looks up at the cloudy sky and sighs, "Ah, looks like it will rain soon."
I don't say anything as my respond. I walk pass him, pushing the front gate and stop right in front of the door. My heart aches so bad that I feel like I can't breathe.
"It's alright," Yoseob embraces my hand gently. He gives me a warm smile and assures me to open the door with my key. "Come on."
He opens the door for me and both of us step inside the house. When did the last time I visit this house? Why do I feel that nothing has changed even after one year?
"Forgive me if I possibly hurt your feelings today.My immature self just said immature things."
It's a week after my graduation day. I had decided that I would not continue our family business as a cook. I was never good in cooking anyway.
My passion was music. I loved to play guitar and piano, just like my mother. My father always said that I resembled my mother a lot when I was playing piano.
That's why I thought he would support me when I told him I would give a try to enter entertainment industry.
He didn't. He was against my decision. He said I should inherit the family business as the only child. I didn't have any siblings and he had put a big expectation on me.
"I never said I would continue your business!" my tone raised as emotion got into me. "Why couldn't you understand?!"
My father looked really shocked with my reacttion. He couldn't hide his disappointment when he said that he should not have let me stop taking the cooking class last year.
"If Mom was here, she would understand me better than you!" tears rolled down on my cheek. I stomped on my feet and left him, storming into my room and locked it.
"If you possibly can't understand my feelings, it's fine.No need for excuses.It's all my fault."
That night I ran away from my house. I went to Seoul with all my savings. My cousin welcomed me to live in her house while I pursued my dream as a music composer in one of the biggest music companies.
A week after that, my father came to Seoul to find me. He left his restaurant so he could talk to me, pursuing me to return.
"Look, I can't understand what you want if you keep like this," he said to me from behind the door. "I know you love music but running away from your own father is not a good decision!"
Just like a little kid, I covered my ears with my hands, refusing to listen to him. I didn't say a word, hoping that he would just leave.
He did leave just to return again a week after. For months he tried to beg me to return to our house. My cousin tried to convince me to visit him but I refused.
I was so stubborn.
"You can still hate me for your sorrowful feelings, it's okay.There's no need for any expressions.To me you'll be here forever."
My father stopped coming after three months. He sent me a letter every Sunday, telling me that he still waited for me to return. He always wrote about every memorable moment happened at his restaurant.
I read every letter but I never replied to them. It's my rebelious attempt, a childish act because I wanted him to know that I was not a kid anymore.
I could do whatever I wanted. I could be a music composer and I would prove it. I was better in music than cooking.
Why couldn't he understand me?
The letters finally stopped after I left the house for seven months. A friend of mine told me that my father was still doing well and I thought he must felt tired already.
It's alright, I told myself. When I had succeed, I would show him that he was wrong and I was right. It's alright if he hated me as long as I could prove my word.
Later I met Yang Yoseob, a colleague in the same company with me. He was gifted with amazing voice and we became good friends in no time.
He confessed to me and asked me to become his girlfriend two months after that. As if I didn't have any thought about my family, I told nothing about him to my father.
I could always tell him later after I showed him that I was a successful music composer.
Tomorrow would be another day for me, I thought so.
"Even if you don't say, everyone knows.Both your eyes are immersed with tears.Sorry, so sorry.This is my heart."
He died.
The news came three days ago, one year after I left my father. Our neighbour told me that he was sick but he still insisted to run the restaurant all by himself.
He was exhausted due to the cold winter. Every worker had taken their holiday but he never stopped working even just for a day.
I couldn't believe it. What was he thinking? He was not young anymore. Was it his pride? He could have asked my help if he really needed money.
"Your father always bragged about how great you were in Seoul," my neighbour said when we met at the hospital. "He was so proud to have a daughter like you."
I blinked in confusion, didn't understand what she was talking about. Didn't my father disagree with my decision to be a music composer?
"Your mother was a great musician and your father always told us that you really resembled your mother. You should see his face when we knew that your composed song was used for a commercial song," she continued with sad smile. "He was a proud father."
"It's impossible," I scoffed, fighting back the urge to cry. "He hated me. He gave up on me because I was too stubborn to listen to him."
Yoseob, who accompanied me to the hospital, didn't say a word as he listened carefully to my neighbor, "Did he? Did he give up on you or did you give up on him first?"
I felt a pang in my heart because of her question.
"He stopped writing because he knew that you're doing good in Seoul. He repeated the song you composed every day. He collected every article with your name in it, even if it's just a few paragraphs," she looked at me with pitiful gaze. "You didn't know, did you?"
I couldn't hold back my tears when I finally found out about how much my father still loved me. He never stopped loving me. He loved me so much yet I didn't realize it.
That night I cried in Yoseob's hug as if there was no tomorrow.
There was no tomorrow where I could see my father again. There was no tomorrow where I could talk to him, apologize to him, and tell him how I loved him so.
"You know the day I've opened up my heart.I will do better.Sorry, I'm sorry.I can't say anything other than this."
Here I am now, standing in my father's bedroom. He inherited this house to me so I could use this house whenever I wanted to.
Just like my neighbour said, my father really cared about me. I can find CDs with songs composed by me, even if it's just one short track. There is a scrapbook with my pictures.
A tear escapes my eyes when I see the last page of the scrapbook.
It's the picture of me and my father together, one year after my mother died because of sickness. I was sitting behind the piano and he sat next to me. We smiled to the camera.
It was Christmas and I remembered how he said he loved me.
Now he is gone, all I can do is just to regret about our last conversation.
How did he feel when I shouted at him? What did he hold inside when I ran away from house? What's in his mind when I refused to talk to him? How did he feel when I never replied his letter?
"Sorry...," I hug the scrapbook tight as I sob. "I'm sorry..."
"I can't do anything other than this.I can't imagine a world without you."
Yoseob takes a seat in front of me. I'm still crying uncontrollably, feeling that my heart is breaking as I regret everything I've done to him.
"It's raining," he murmurs, looking at the window. "The sky is crying too."
He wipes my tears with his thumb, giving me his angelic smile, "Your father must be proud to have a daughter like you. You love him so much."
I clutch his shirt and bury my face on his chest, "I'll stay here. Is it alright?"
Yoseob my hair lovingly and kisses my forehead, "Of course it's alright. Let's stay here together."
A tear rolls down on my cheek.
Sorry.
Dad, can you hear me?
"Although I'm lacking and deficient,I love you still."
* * * * *
This story is based on "Sorry (Dear. Daddy)" by f(x).
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