Choi JongHoon holds my hand tightly, tugging me along the hallway. I can feel everyone stare at me as we walk by; it’s strange having so many pairs of eyes looking at me, probably thinking how lucky I am to be walking hand in hand with one of the most wanted bachelors of  KyeWon High(*). And I can’t help but agree with them. As he leads me to my class, he smiles with that breath taking smile of his, the charisma radiating off of him.

            “Did you sleep well last night?” he asks me.

I smile back and reply, “Neh, I did.”

He seems satisfied with my answer, because he turned around and continued walking to my classroom. Truthfully, I didn’t sleep all that well the night before. Something…something has been troubling me lately, but I can’t put my finger on it. Pretty soon, we arrive at my homeroom class, and I gave his hand a light squeeze as a farewell for now.

But instead of letting go, he pulls me closer and gives me a kiss – right in front of everyone!

I can hear them all whooping and yelling as JongHoon kisses me tenderly, and I can’t help but blush.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat from the door. “Aish! Do you kids have no shame?” My homeroom teacher scolds as he playfully hits me and JongHoon on the head with a folder.

            “Aigoo!” JongHoon pouts, “Seongsengnim! I’m delicate~”

            “Shin MiRoo! Go to your seat and you,” my teacher points at my boyfriend, “go back to class.”

            “Yeh, Yeh,” he replies, and gives me a wink before he leaves.

Still red in the face, I sit down on my desk near the window and quietly take out the things from my bag.

            “Aish! Shin MiRoo! Don’t you know how lucky you are?” Kang HyeBin comments as she took her seat besides mine. “You and JongHoon oppa look so cute together.”

I blush again at her words and smile. Not really wanting to get into another conversation about how he and I are such a perfect couple, I turn my attention to the teacher at the front of the class. I guess HyeBin took the hint and focuses her attention ahead as well. I sigh in relief, allowing my eyes to wander to the huge window to my left. Why do I feel so…indifferent? Like, I felt no bubbly feeling or butterflies in my stomach when JongHoon held my hand. The only reason I blushed was because everyone was looking at me and I was embarrassed – and that I was feeling relieved when the teacher made him leave. Does this mean that I love him less? I wonder… No! No! I shake my head to clear my thoughts, I love JongHoon and I’m just acting like this because it’s not my best week. Yeah, that’s why.

After school, I trail behind him as he talks about something, but I’m distracted – my mind still thinking about this morning. Why had I thought that? Why on earth would I think that my feelings for my perfect boyfriend had changed? It didn’t make any sense at all. Then I notice something in front of me – a flower. I look up in confusion to find JongHoon’s smiling face as he holds up the flower to my eyes. I accept it with a smile of my own and allowed him to take my hand. Yet there is something at the back of my mind… why was there no spark?

A week passes by and nothing gets better. I don’t understand, I think it got worse. There was no more feeling when we touched or kissed, or held each other. I can remember when we first started going out, his touches were magical; it felt like my skin was on fire and I loved it. But now…now there was just nothing. I stare at a picture of both of us on my desk. It was one of my favorites; it was a picture with his arms securely around my waist, with big smiles plastered on our faces. I trace the outline of his figure and smile sadly, knowing what I must end up doing. I bury my head in my arms as the realization hits me – its time to let JongHoon go.

I nervously fidget in the car next to him, my heart thumping widely in my chest, and the harsh rain pelting down on the glass windshield does nothing to alleviate my worry. We are driving back from our date, and I store the memory of it in my heart for I know it will be last time we would be together. This is it, I think to myself as I watch the raindrops race down my window.

Ever the observant boyfriend he is, JongHoon glances towards me here and there, probably wondering why I was so quiet. 

            “What’s wrong MiRoo?” He asks with concern evident in his voice.

I hesitate, not wanting to go through with my decision. With a sigh, I softly but seriously ask him if he can pull the car over to talk. Noticing my gloomy exposition, he agrees and pulls the car close to the curb. I sit there in silence, allowing the soft pitter-patter of the rain be the only sound heard within his car. I can feel his gaze on me, and I sum up all the courage within me.

            “JongHoon,” I whisper hesitantly, “Let’s break up.”

His eyes grow as large as saucers at my words, his voice caught up in his throat. I try not to look at him, fearing the expression I might find on his face. Would he hate me? I wonder to myself. It was a while before he replies back.

            “Why? Was it something I did?” he asks quietly and with confusion, trying to catch my eye. “MiRoo, look at me.”

But I did not.

I carefully raise my gaze to the cars zooming pass us, so as to not look at his face.

             “My feelings have changed…Miene JongHoon, hurting you wasn't my intention, it’s just… its just I think it would be best if we move on.”

He sits there, looking straight ahead. And I’m afraid. Afraid that he would hate me, that he would despise me. His silence was more deafening than the harsh rain that begins to pour down in anger.

            “JongHoon?” I ask, wanting to know what he was thinking about.

He looks down and takes out a folded note from the glove compartment. With a shaky breath, he presses the folded paper in my hand. He keeps his hand on mine, and I can feel the warmth of it despite its shaking.  I look up into his eyes and my heart tightens inside my chest. His eyes…his eyes were filled with such pain, such sorrow. Unable to look at his face any longer, I cast my eyes downward to our joined hands.

            “What’s thi – ” I begin to say, but suddenly bright yellow lights came speeding towards us, blinding, honking furiously at us. It isn’t even a minute – no – it isn’t even a second when the speeding car swerves and collides into JongHoon’s side.

Pain shoots out from all over as I feel my body bang against the car. A whirlwind of colors and shapes flash by my eyes, nausea enveloping my senses. Then I start feeling numb – no more pain, no more anything. My vision blurs, and the last thing I am aware of is JongHoon’s firm hand in mine and the soft pitter-patter of the rain.

Bright light forces me to open my eyes from a dreamless sleep. My vision is blurry and a dull ache in my head forces me to shut my eyes once again. Waiting a few seconds, I open my eyes once more to find I was in some hospital bed. I shift my gaze to the side, where my umma tiredly sleeps on a chair. I try calling out to her, but my voice is hoarse and scratchy. Yet she hears me anyway.

She tiredly pushes herself up from the chair and sits on my bed, petting my head softly as she cradles my worn body. “You were asleep for a whole day after the accident,” I hear her say.

            “Muh?” I ask in confusion. What happened? All I remember was bright yellow lights and pain.

            “Because of the rain,” she explains softly, “the other driver lost control on the slippery road and collided with the car you and JongHoon was driving.”

The car that JongHoon was driving…JongHoon… Something snaps within me as I remember. Where is JongHoon?! Where is he? I get up in worry, but nausea hits me hard and I fall back down onto my pillows. Guilt and worry gnaw at me – where is he?

            “Umma, where is – where is JongHoon?”

She was silent for a minute but quietly tells me, “He’s dead.”

The news hits me hard. Dead? An image of a smiling JongHoon floods my mind. How can he be dead? My umma apologizes, but I don’t hear it. All I can think about was that a person who was so close to my heart despite everything…was gone.

In my shock, I did not see her stand up from her position to go to her purse. I am only nudged out of my reverie when my umma holds out something in front of me – a folded note covered with blood stains.

            “You were found with this note in your hands and you didn’t let go,” she says solemnly. “I’ll leave you for a bit MiRoo, I’m going to go ask for a nurse.”

The room goes quiet after she leaves and only the soft hum of the heart monitor accompanies me. I stare at the blood soaked folded note in my hands – my mind is blank as I open the note from JongHoon. In perfect penmanship, a simple statement worn out by rain and blood sat perfectly at the center of the wrinkled paper.

            “Without your love, I would die.”