“There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.”

- Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God      

*

            When I got to Busan I hailed a cab and went straight for Taemin’s aunt’s house, not too far from the shoreline but in a lower income area, a place where the houses were still decked with decades of history, simplicity and tradition. I don’t know what I expected; I guess nothing really. When you have no expectations everything carries its own element of surprise, no matter how grand or small.

            I knocked. The door opened and I felt myself swallow nervously. I was ready to see him. I was ready to see him…

            “Yes? May I help you?” 

            No expectations, heavy dose of surprise. It was an older woman who answered. I could tell immediately that it was Taemin’s mother. He resembled her. I bowed quite low, out of respect. “Hello, halmoni, is… your son—is Taemin here?”

            Mrs. Lee looked me over for a few minutes, her scrutinizing glare making me feel more like I was here to pick up her daughter for a date then to meet her nearly-thirty year-old son.

            “It’s you, isn’t it. I can tell. Seo-yun—!” 

            I felt tense as the woman called this name over her shoulder, calling her sister over, who I assumed was Taemin’s aunt. However, the second the woman approached—I quickly learned that I had it backwards after her ‘hello’ was delivered by way of a firm slap in the face. Stunned, it took me a second to recover from what the hell just happened. I rubbed my jaw, eyes alert and confused.

            “You,” she said, obviously the Mrs. Lee that Taemin had talked about, the one who lived off passive-aggressive energy and cold stares. Though this was by no means passive-aggressive. “You are the one making my son do all those horrible things—”

            I didn’t know how to respond to this. What could I say? I bowed a few more times, nervous and embarrassed. Slightly afraid. “Jwesonghamnida.” It dawned on me then that I was apologizing for something I wasn’t really all that sorry for. But out of respect I kept a humble and apologetic air.

            There was a look in Taemin’s mother’s eyes that had changed. I knew then that really, at the heart of things, she was just worried for her son. I wondered—was I too late? Had he done something? Had something gone terribly bad in the time he’d been away…?

            Sheepishly I asked again: “Is he… is he here?”

            “You want to see me die an old lady—no grandchildren? No daughter-in-law? No respectful son to bury me next to the father he put prematurely in the ground? You're the worst kind of home-wrecker. Filthy. Disgusting.”

            More and more, I was understanding Taemin’s world. His pain. His burden.

            “God will judge you. You are his hyung, aren’t you?” she started to plead. “You are older than him—a widower too! How could you do this to him? How could you do this to my baby? My son?”

            I don’t know what all Taemin told her, what he confessed to her, but if I had to guess it wasn’t much. He probably told her that he was in love with an older man who was once married but lost his wife, and that he’d had a brief affair with this man who in turn had little interest in him. Even if he'd left out the fact that he had a boyfriend, this was a big enough blow to a mother’s heart I’m sure; especially one who couldn’t accept the fact that her son was a different person than she’d hoped for. She would always regret him, always wish for a different story.

            With this in mind I did the only thing I could think of that make sense: “Please, halmoni.” I tried, earnest and sincere. “Where is your son? I have to talk with him… it's urgent that I do.”

            “He’s not here,” she spat. “He’s gone. He’s not here anymore!”

            My heart seized. Especially when I saw the tears forming in her eyes. I was starting to fear the worst. “Is—is he okay?”

            “He left,” her sister stepped in, as if she took pity on the terror in my voice.  

            I did not expect this either. “Back to Seoul?” Of course the mail would have been about four days ahead of me. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered the possibility. 

            “I don’t know where he is, or where he was going,” said his aunt, with a bit more compassion, “but he’s not here. You’re looking in the wrong place.”

            You're looking in the wrong place...

            I really didn’t blame them. It’s hard to change your ways, your thinking, your mindset about things like that—I should know. I’d undergone my own transformation of thought and feeling, more radical than I’d ever expected. I fought and struggled, only to come to the end of myself and the things I thought I understood.

            This is his past, not his future. This is the place he had to reconcile with himself. Deal with who he is, no matter who he let down. 

            “I’m sorry you have suffered,” I said, my respectful tone in tact even though I was starting to feel a protective urge start to rise, “but your son—your nephew—is a great person: kind, compassionate, caring. He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met, and I’m thankful he found me—and I—” The next thing just rolled off my tongue without my mind getting in the way: “and I love him... I love him.” 

            They seemed surprised to hear this. But what they didn’t know was that I just surprised the hell out of myself as well. I'd never said this out loud. I thought maybe it would sound ridiculous but instead, as the words hung on my lips, my spine sharpened and my chest constricted. It was like the confession had struggled to be born and now that it had, my body was free from its grip. It felt right. Like I said, a lack of expectations brought about a ton of surprises. 

            One last surprise: Seo-hyeon, the aunt, came up to me and kissed the cheek that her sister had slapped; she was much shorter than me, so I had to bend down considerably for her to hug me. I wasn't upset with them anymore than I really believed they were with me. They loved him and were territorial in their own ways. Disappointment is easier to mend than pure rejection, and I didn't think that either one of these ajummas were capable of hate.

            “Take care of that boy,” she said, a little emotional. “He's stubborn. Always smiles, even when he shouldn't…”

            Seeing her sister treat me this way, Taemin’s mom let down her armor and did the same, pressing her weathered fingers into my arms with a desperate hold. “Understand?” Her voice was shaky, emotional. I knew she was worried for her son even if she could not properly express it. Not only was Taemin grieving in his own ways, he was also missing. Dealing with everything on his own, a perpetual endless smile on his face as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But he did. He had a lot of them; too much of them, in fact. And it only took something so big as this for me to finally see. 

            I know this now. I understand completely.

            “Halmoni, your son took care of me when I was very sick. He has a kind heart. Please don't hold it against him, or yourself. He is someone to be proud of.” 

            She didn't say anything but I could tell she was listening, and that in itself was enough. I respected her effort, even if it was small. I felt for her; it would be a hard adjustment for someone in her state of mind and her former grief. I understood grief well enough. I understood disappointment and regret. I understood longing and loss, a surprise turn of events in life... ah, yes, I understood. 

           “I’ll find him,” I said at last, words firm and resolute. “If I have to look all over Korea—I promise I’ll find him.”

           And I meant it. While I was there, I searched the expansive coast as best as I could. It was impossible to tell just where Taemin had filmed his confession video, but that didn’t stop me from trying anyway. I was at alert: half expecting to find him, half realizing that the odds were ridiculously against me. But I was determined. I was determined to find him, no matter how far or how long I had to look. Something just compelled me on—mercilessly, desperately. I had to find him, my Taemin… 

            I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening searching viable places throughout the busy city, unsuccessfully. I figured then the best thing to do was to check his apartment, just in case. I took the last train available, which would put me back in Seoul in the early hours of morning. Travelling overnight, the way back seemed to take longer than the way there, each hour a collection of stressful minutes tied together by worry and fear. I tried to sleep but couldn’t. Tried to text and call him, but the number didn’t go through, as usual. There was nothing I could do but wait; wait and hope that whatever force that had tied us together in the beginning would see us through to the end.

            When I got to his place many hours later the night was only just receding, like a curtain of black revealing a lightness in the staged sky. I knocked, regardless of the hour, but there was no answer. I had a thought then to bust through the door—I mean, I worried that he’d done something stupid in there. That he was possibly bleeding out on his bathroom floor, or choking on an overdose of pills—so many deathly scenarios playing out in my mind, honestly, that I began to panic. However, when I looked through that faithful kitchen window, that’s when I finally realized that he didn’t even live there anymore. Moving boxes were stacked on the counters—boxes that each had the name ‘Park Minwoo’ in black characters down the side. This person was clearly moving in. This wasn’t Taemin’s apartment anymore.  

            Embarrassed once I saw the light flick on in the hall, I knew that the person coming to the door was not the person I was waiting for. And this man—Park Minwoo, I assumed—was not too happy about me stirring him awake at the hour I had.

            “Who are you? What do you want?” he said gruffly, obviously and understandably upset, as his puffy eyes attempted to adjust to the light.

            “I’m sorry, but, the guy who lived here before you—Lee Taemin—is he here? Do you know where he went?”

            “What? Nah, man, you got the wrong place. There’s no Tae Min here.”

            My heart felt heavy. I knew that would be his answer even before he spoke it. I was discouraged. Scared, and running out of options. “Have you seen a forwarding address? Anything?”

            “Sorry. Can’t help you.”

            The man closed the door on me quickly after. I didn’t blame him but I also didn’t care. Let him think I’m crazy. Let him think whatever he wants. All I care about is finding him…

            The only thing I could think of next was to hunt down his boyfriend, Jae, who I assumed he was still seeing. However, I didn’t know where to start—I didn’t even know his last name. I felt defeated. Tired. Worried. Lost. What do I do?

            I decided to check with the apartment office once the sky was light enough. Around eight a.m., I asked the lady in the office if there was a forwarding address for the previous tenant in #143. But they didn’t have one. Nothing.

            “You’re not the only one looking for this guy,” the clerk said towards the end of our exchange.

            “What?”

            “There was another fella looking for him also. Young, handsome. I never knew #143 was so popular. He kept to himself and rarely got any mail, you know. So quiet. It’s all surprising to me!”

            Her observations were meant innocently enough but to me it was huge. “Who was here—who was here looking? Was his name Jae?” I proceeded to describe what I remembered the time I’d seen him coming out of Taemin’s front door.

            “Um… I think so. That seems about right. Here, wait—” She started thumbing through some kind of record. “I usually don’t do this, but he seemed very upset and said that if anything should turn up, would I please kindly give him a call. It’s not procedure, but… I felt bad for him, so I took his business card.”

            She handed me the card: Son Jaeseok, Sales Representative, Cummins, Inc. Address of work listed. Office hours noted. As easy as that, I’d be able to find him. Finally, a viable lead...

            I bowed gratefully. Excitedly. “Thank you, ajumoni. Thank you.”

            She smiled and waved goodbye. “I hope you find what you’re looking for!”

            Me too, lady. Me too.

            All around me life went on, unimpressed with the diligence of my search, or the reason. The desperation of every step failed to unsettle the people around me who were just going about their lives, oblivious to my frantic quest. My journey, like Orpheus’s, to rescue my beloved from whatever nightmare I was afraid had swallowed him. Just like he'd done for me. Taemin had not only come into my hell, without judgement or fear—he had offered me a way out of it.  

           When I made my way to his office building it was about 9:15. I directly asked the front desk clerk if I could speak with Mr. Son. She seemed hesitant to bother him, but eventually buzzed his line and gave my name and request. I didn’t doubt he’d see me; I was right. Once he heard my name, his tone changed on the intercom: “I’ll be right down.” It was a stern voice. Serious. Displeased.

            About ten minutes went by before I saw him approaching, decked in his designer suit and tie. I’m guessing he was older than Taemin, now that I really got a chance to look at him, but probably still younger than me. We bowed heads slightly. Uncomfortably.

            “What brings you here?” he said.

            “I’m looking for Taemin. Do you know where he is? I have to talk to him…”

            He continued to study me. “Don’t you, of all people, know?”

            I shook my head. “I don’t.” I felt shameful of this fact.

            “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t help you with that. You’re the reason he ran away in the first place.”

            More and more shame. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know.”

            “I don’t think you know a lot of things, to be honest. I knew—but in the end it didn’t matter. He only wanted you.”       

            “Wait—you’re not together anymore?”

            He shook his head. “Happy? I'm surprised you didn't know this, since you never really cared about boundaries.”

            Despite his sarcastic, judgmental tone, I have to admit that I was. I was. Still, he seemed like a respectable guy. I had no issue with him. My only concern was finding his ex-boyfriend. “I’m sorry if you’ve… I’m sorry you got hurt in this,” I said. “Do you really not know where he went? I’ve already been to Busan, but he left—”

            “You went to Busan? To his family's house?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Why are you playing games? You know you just ended up hurting him, right? Leading him on, denying him and lying to yourself...”

            “I know.”

            “Look: I don’t know where Taemin is but… if I had to guess? He’d be in a place that meant something to him. He’s sentimental; clings to memories and feelings—did you know that? Did you ever stop to realize? Do you even know who he is or what he needs, or were you too busy thinking of yourself the entire time he tried to show you?”

            I felt terrible. I kind of knew. But he was right: I’d spent so much time focused on my own memories and feelings that I’d really not stopped to notice these things.

            Jae sniffed. It seemed like it was therapeutic for him at least to get these things off his chest. Like Taemin’s family, I felt it was my obligation to hear his ex’s complaints also. I’d affected so many people without noticing; I’d let so many people down, messed up their own plans, screwed up their expectations. I felt responsible to at least let them exorcise their verbal disapproval. I could take it. I could take their rejection and anger. I could take it—so that Taemin wouldn’t have to.

            “He’s too good for you,” Jae said lastly before he turned to leave. “I’d wish you luck, but I don’t believe in it. And I don’t believe that you deserve him. If you find him, I hope you can finally see that.”

            I already do. I already do…

           By the time I left that building it was bordering ten a.m. I was tired, but didn’t want to stop looking. I decided to recollect myself a little by going home and showering. Eating something small. Secretly I wondered, Would my place count as a place of memories and sentiment? I got excited at the possibility and made my way back as quick as possible. It was a theory anyway; there was a chance I could be right…

            10:47. I was greeted by the darkness of an empty place, as usual. My place was just as I’d left it the afternoon before. Nothing was changed, nothing unusual. I took off my shoes at the door and threw my keys on the table, feeling even more defeated.

            What do I do? I repeated. What do I do? Help me...

            It occurred to me then that I hadn’t lit incense for my wife and daughter since I'd been gone. I guess I’m slightly superstitious; I didn’t want to forget this act. I didn’t want to forget them, not even for a day. It was a small offering to start my day, enough to get me through the rest of the hours with a minimized sense of pain; memories that had, in the past, roared ceaselessly only to now whisper quietly, and on occasion.  

           11:35. I’d gotten myself together and said my daily prayer. It occurred to me then, as I watched the gentle cloud rise to the ceiling that this was the thing that tied Taemin and I together. Like a veil had been lifted from my eyes, I understood this. This: the reason behind this fragrant smell, this wisp of smoke—this was the origin of our start, our genesis; it was the thing that both divided and bound us. It was… the thing that would bring us back again—

            “Thank you, yeobo...”

            I knew she could hear me. I felt her in my soul, my spirit. I knew he was okay, I knew he was still alive—she told me this too. She spoke to me without words, many things all at once. I felt her everywhere in that place. And I just knew. I knew.

            12:01. I was on a bus headed for the place I knew I’d find him. Impatient, yet calm. Expectant, but nervous. It was a place I’d not been to once since I lost her. A place I’d purposely avoided but would always remember how to find. This was the place that tied all things together: all hellos and goodbyes, all loose ends and new beginnings. 

            The time was approaching. I pulled the cord to request the stop. My heart tightened as the bus, the very literal agent of Haneul’s death, shifted gears and slowed its speed in order to pull up against the curb. A few others got out before me, slipping through the metal door while I remained, stunned and mesmerized in my seat. I’d not been here in so long, but somehow it still looked the same. Even from my window view, I recognized it perfectly. It was a hard sight to take in and I had this sensation like I had betrayed her by arriving by bus. The irony of it. The cruel injustice. But I had wanted to hurry, you see; I was so impatient to see him. I knew in my heart she would understand. I knew in my heart, she understood all things…

            At the very last second, I shot from my seat and found the courage to get off the bus, hands trembling on the railing as I descended. However, the minute I saw that jaded tree, the bark still chipped and marred in the place where it had been hit—I broke down. My tears began to fall on their own accord, I really couldn’t help it. This place was too strong for me. It overpowered me. I thought I could handle it, but I couldn’t. The pavement was still stained with her blood, the last bit of her life that had seeped out of her and turned that awful place a dark color, though it was now faded under the many days that the sun had tried to bleach it away. But it would never be faded or bleached from my memory. Never.

            “What am I doing here…” I asked myself aloud. I wanted to leave so badly. I wanted to run from there and never look back. I hated that I was even standing here. Overcome, I felt compelled to kneel down in that spot, to touch the sidewalk and the tree—just for a moment. Just for a second, as if a way to remind myself that it was even real to begin with. Or better, to try to wake up from the dream…

            This is the place that ties us together. This is the place…

            I had to get it together. I had to remember that the reason I was here was not to mourn, but to grow. To welcome something new. To finally be happy.

             I hadn’t even noticed the time pass by while mediating there. I hadn’t noticed the bus that came fifteen minutes after mine had left. Didn’t notice the sound of footsteps or the hand on my shoulder as I knelt there. I didn’t notice anything until I heard that sweet voice of his say, “H-hyung…? Are you okay?”

            Shocked, stunned—her spirit had led me here, but her spirit had led his too.

            “Taeminnie!” I said all at once, standing to my feet, amazed that he was there; disbelief. After searching so long for something for it to have found you instead—it was like a dream. Was I seeing properly, was this really real? “What are you—are you all right?”

            He smiled, as if nothing extraordinary had happened or was happening at that time. That time, nearly 1 p.m., exactly twenty-four hours since I’d left Seoul to go find him in Busan.

           “Why are you here, hyung? I never see—” he choked on these words a little, the silent words holding so many unspoken things.

            “Me—? You! Where were you? Why are you here, what happened?”

            "Since when are you concerned about things like that?" he teased, obviously uncomfortable.

            "Since my life started making sense again."

            He held his breath a little. “I… I come here often—I like to visit this tree. It reminds me of… my promise.”

            I continued to stare at him, his eyes sparkling and almost wet.

            “I don’t know where she’s buried... I never thought it something I should ask. This is the place we talked, if only for a moment...”

            “She mentioned you once,” I said truthfully, another one of the revelations I’d had that day.

            “Me?”

             I nodded. “She noticed you. I admit, I never did, but she did. She told me about a young kid in the park who always seemed sad, lonely. A kid who came every day. Alone. Almost invisible. A kid who smiled sweetly as she'd play with our dog. I can't believe I never remembered it.”

             “She... knew who I was?” This seemed to mean something to him. 

             “I thought she meant an actual kid not a grown man… but now I know it was you. It was always you, Taemin.”

             He chuckled a little. “Fitting that you’ve called me a ‘kid’ since we met...”

             “Well…” I started nervously, “you’re not that. You’re… so much more to me now.”

             Something about saying this changed the atmosphere. Made it emotionally seductive. Maybe it was the peak of the passion and the feelings I felt for this man. Maybe it was the loneliness I’d ensued each night he stayed away. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere...” 

            “You have? Why?” he was honestly suprrised.  

            “Your letter—I thought something happened to you. I was worried.”

            Taemin seemed nervous. Shy. Embarrassed. “Ah… I didn’t expect to see you again.”

            “They say the heart can keep beating even after the body dies,” I began. “Just for a little. It has its own electrical impulse, enough oxygen to keep it going. But I think it’s because that’s where we store our emotions, our feelings—it’s the center of ourselves. When the rest of us fades away it’s the one piece that goes on. You kept me alive, Taemin. You gave me a way to keep going. To get stronger—to be whole. The rest of me may have died, but you kept my heart beating... all 100,000 times a day.”

            He was searching for something to say. I could tell that he was getting emotional. Would he accept my feelings? Would he return them still?

            “Hyung…” Taemin started unsuccessfully. "You don't look well. Are you sick again?"

             But I didn’t want to hear anymore. Nothing more. Firmly, I grabbed him and kissed him, refusing to ease my force until he melted into it mutually. As we connected this way, I felt a burden lifting; the last burden I’d been holding. I knew I was reborn for this man. I knew I had died that day, with my wife, only to live again for another who resembled her. Who carried in him a sense of her spirit. I knew this was my future. My everything.

            Desperately, I knew it all.

            “Taemin,” I continued, looking at him in earnest, our lips barely parting. I didn’t care who was watching. Who was looking. Here, in the place that I’d lost my wife, I embraced my rebirth. “I love you.”

            More and more surprise. He honesty looked like had never even considered it. “You… what?”

            “I love you,” I repeated. I’d never said anything so firmly and resolute before. I had no hesitation or doubt. It was fact. Precise, inescapable fact. 

            “How? I thought you…?”

            “I can’t explain it; I can’t define it. I’m not interested in trying to—it doesn’t matter. I know how I feel… I won’t be happy unless you’re in my life. I miss you—”

            “Minho-hyung…”

            “And I’m…” I sighed deeply, “I’m sorry. For everything. That I’ve hurt you, that you’ve struggled because of me—”

            He was starting to cry a little but attempted to hide all evidence of it. He was beautiful when he cried. I had never seen it before but now that I had, I was mesmerized by his tears. He'd tried to uproot his whole life in order to move on, only to be drawn back to the place that meant the most. If anyone could understand that, it was me.

            I pressed his body into mine. As I held him, I couldn't help grin by reflex. Something about this felt so right. So conclusively perfect and wonderful.

            “You were never a problem for me,” he finally said. “You were a blessing. There is nothing to be sorry for. See? You're smiling, just like I wanted.”

            Jae was right: he was too good for me. Far too good. The most patient and considerate person; strong yet vulnerable all at the same time. I looked at him a little longer, enjoying the silence of his heart beating against mine as I held him close. It had been a day of searching but the day felt like years. Months of silence between us, but somehow the months felt more like a lifetime.

            So I did the one thing my impulse pleaded for. I leaned in and kissed him again. I couldn't help it. Selfishly, it just felt right. “Be with me, be mine,” I said. I could smell him, taste the sweetness hanging on his lips. “I don’t deserve it, I know, but give me the opportunity to show you—”

            It was his turn to silence me now, by his shear smile alone he took my breath away. All my words. His eyes were beaming, a gentle yet slightly mischievous expression. 

            My Taemin looked at me and said, somewhat amused and blinking his eyes rapidly the way he did when he was at his happiest, his cheeks slightly flushed: “Ah, hyung, I thought you’d never ask.”

____________________

Final A/N!! T_T 

I hope you see the true meaning of the title of this story~! And that is was Taemin's journey as much as it was Minho's, who had to make a sacrifice in order to reach his 'beloved' and be reborn as a whole man. A lot of you really thought I'd kill off Taemin. I just couldn't do that to that sweet precious kid, right? XD  Thanks for believing in me to end this the way that I did! I hope it was satisfactory. I cried a bit, tbh, especially when Minho was on the bus and in the park - his 'last battle' with himself, in a way. And he conquered. I'm so proud of him. <3  This is about as sappy as I get, folks~! So feel free to believe what you'd like about 2min's future in this story, because I believe they are strong enough to stay together, don't you?

I tried to make a story that was about universal love and not orientation. I hope that message got through successfully. Love who you want to love, and pursue your happiness in life. It's short and ever changing. Make the best out of your gains and losses both.

Thank you all for taking this unconventional journey with me! This story is a part of my heart. I really didn't think anyone would read it when I posted the forward but it's become one of the most popular stories I have. It means a lot to me. Thank you all. 2min is very special to me, and it makes me happy that I was able to publish this on their 5th year anniversary. I will always support them, no matter the context of their love. There is something about them that makes my day a little brighter, my own pain a little lighter. For the past two years, 2min has gotten me through a lot of dark times. They are special to me and I hope you can see that this story is, in a way, my love-letter to them. I find a unique strength in their connection, even if it's just friendship.

*Small note that I meant to include in chXV: Minho's wife, Haneul, her name actually means sky/heavens. I hope you don't, but if you feel the need to unsub now that it's over - would you mind upvoting on your way out if you enjoyed this story? The karma is useful to me in promoting other stories. 

Thanks again guys~ see you on the next adventure!! I'm thinking a JongKey or OnKey love story next. <3 But this definitely isn't the last you'll see of 2min from me, I promise! ^_^

•  •  •

"When I fall in love, I just can’t stand still without conveying my overflowing thoughts. If I can’t get a good reply, I would have to give up but if there is even a tiny possibility, I would push it to the end.... When I see someone like that who would do [their] best without giving up even though [they] face a hard time, I would feel like supporting [them]. As for me, I set a target for myself to be a man who takes a good care of his family, like a father figure."

- Choi Minho, Sept 2013

Happy anniversary, my sweet precious 2min! Five years down, a lifetime to go. 

photo cr: 2minCHOIL2E