v. When a girl is silent, it's dangerous. She’s either over thinking, tired of waiting, about to blow up, needs a hug, is falling apart, is crying inside, or all of the above.

February 14, 2011. I remember the day clearly as if it was just yesterday. She was silent, which was a first, because usually on Valentine’s Day, she’s so animated that she just can’t stop babbling about her life and our “love story”. The apartment was quiet all day. Way too quiet.

“Baby, is there anything wrong?” I said. While poking her cheek, I pouted cutely, hoping she would respond.

“No,” she said dully.

I twirled a strand of her hair around my finger as I stared at her face, “Are you sure? Do you need a hug? Did I do something wrong again? Oh, my god. I probably did do something wrong again! What did I do? Did I forget an important date? Was I inconsiderate again? Did I ruin Valentine’s Day for you? Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry! I’m such an idi-!”

She slapped my cheek lightly and I stopped mid-sentence, “You did nothing wrong, you retard.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said.

She sighed loudly, “You never believe me when I say anything, so it doesn’t matter anyways.”

“Ah crap.”

“Myungsoo?” she called quietly from the bathroom, her voice shaking.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” I ran to her worriedly. “You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”

She didn’t reply.

I ran into the restroom, slamming the door behind me. She was lying on the ground, her hands placed on her head gently as her breathing began to even out. Worried, I picked her up and moved her to the bed, taking her temperature to make sure she hadn’t caught a cold.

She muttered incoherent things in her sleep and reached for my face. With her eyes half closed, she whispered, “Myungsoo, we should break up.”

Words couldn’t describe the emotions I was feeling.

I felt dizzy, the world spinning around me. While clutching my pounding head, I tried to breath. My heart beat faster than normal and I began to have trouble breathing.

It was blurry. Everything was blurry as the world around me seemed to be tumbling down. I could feel my heart breaking into a million pieces and my head hurt. Everything hurt. And then I was numb.

I couldn’t feel anything. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. She would get sick of my constant nagging and erted mind. She would get sick of my face, my everything. She would get sick of me.

Too shocked to reply, I left the room silently.

Two hours later, she exited our room with her pink duffel bag.

“What are you doing?” I demanded harshly, grabbing on to her wrist with force.

“I’m going out for a bit, after all, we’re over,” she sighed, yanking her wrist away from my hand.

I felt like I was drowning.

“Don’t go,” I whispered.

“What?”

“I said don’t go!”

She ignored me and continued walking, leaving me in her apartment, alone.

I called her, over and over. She never picked up her cell phone. What was the point of getting her a cell phone if during the most important times, she won’t pick up?

Finally, she picked up her phone. “Yah, where are you?” I screamed into the phone.

“Quit yelling, you’re so annoying,” Haneul’s ticked off voice boomed through the speaker. “She’s staying over at my place for a while, just saying.”

I growled in anger and hung up. “I’m getting my girlfriend back, whether she likes it or not.”

I pounded on the door with my fist. “Im Haneul, open the damn door and let me see my girlfriend!” I yelled, not caring if the neighbors heard me.

“Ex!” she yelled from the other side of the door. “Ex-girlfriend!”

“Im Haneul, I swear, if you don’t open this door, I’ll break it open. And guess what? I’m not going to be the one paying for the repairs!” I threatened as I continuously pounded on the door.

I heard two hushed voices speaking and I stopped pounding. Leaning my ear against the door, I listened in on their conversation.

“Should I tell him?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“No,” came Haneul’s harsh voice.

“But unnie, I feel really bad.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

The door flew open and I came face to face with my girlfriend. She stared up at me with red, puffy eyes. “Come in.” I instantly rushed into the apartment.

She finally sat on the couch and patted the empty spot next to her, signaling for me to sit next to her.

“Myungsoo, I have something really important to say. Whatever you do, don’t overreact,” she said, almost crying. “Myungsoo-ah, I’m dying, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

I laughed. “What are you talking about? Don’t play these jokes on me, I’ll really believe it!” I wrapped my arm around her neck and ruffled her hair.

“I’m not lying. I have cancer,” she stood up and then walked away.

I regret not getting up and embracing her. 

Okay, this is the final version, I promise.