I didn’t break up with you until two weeks after the letter came. It was the day before you were going to send your own letter rejecting the offer.

            I had been careful, avoiding you slowly, and little by little, I rarely saw you.

            My heart ached, and when you didn’t say good morning to me, I nearly ran over to you to apologize and beg for you to talk to me.

            The day I broke up with you, you only kissed me once before walking into your room to pack up your things. I saw how quickly the tears rose to your eyes, and I could have broken down right then and there. You’d moved out before I realized it. And you left for New York so soon.

            The moment I knew you were out of Korea, I guess… I went crazy. Or so my best friend said.

            He knocked on my door and when I opened it, he said my eyes were red and swollen, tears still running down my face. He walked in and my entire apartment was a wreck. Pillows were ripped apart, plates crashed, table legs broken, holes in the walls. I didn’t remember doing half of it.

            “Taemin … What’s going on?”

            I couldn’t stop the sob that escaped me before slumping down to the ground. Jonghyun sat down next to me, patting my back till I finally stopped crying, my tears having run out.

            He pulled me up onto my feet and pushed me towards my room, where I found most of my belongings scattered or broken. Except my photo of you and me. Even just thinking about you killed me. But I couldn’t destroy the picture.

            “Alright, come on, Taemin.” He sat me down on the bed and stood in front of me. He asked for the whole story, and I simply muttered through it. I don’t even know if he understood most of it. But he got the main gist, because he punched me. “You’re such an idiot, Taemin.” He told me I could have just told you to go and that I would visit you often. But my mind told me that you still would have stayed.

            Jonghyun continued to visit me afterwards. He helped pull be back onto my feet. But from what he told me, I’d become a zombie of myself. My dancing was lifeless. My expressions, everything I did… all of it turned out half-assed.

            Everyday I came back to the apartment, I cried. Crying isn’t something a guy should do often. But I didn’t really care. I felt broken. And I’d inflicted that on myself.

            Eventually, Jonghyun told me to move out of the apartment. I could tell that he could barely handle me, but he still did. I will always be in debt to him.

            I moved into another apartment rather far away. The commute to the dance studio was far, but Jonghyun told me it’d help me forget. It would help me get back to normal. We both knew it wasn’t true. I’d never be able to forget you. But he needed me to grasp onto something, and so I tried to forget.

             Everything we had shared, I shoved into boxes and into a closet that I locked afterwards. Couple t-shirts, whatever cups, plates, pillows that were left over, anything. I hid it all away. It didn’t work.

            Everywhere I went, there was always someone, something that reminded me of you.

            A girl with turquoise and black-framed glasses. Turquoise nail polish displayed in the window of a shop. Someone biting their lips. The scent of strawberries or bananas. A simple clasp of hands between couples would set my mind wandering back to you.

            I tried to find something to take my mind off of you. But when I tried smoking, I remembered how you hated when someone smoked and immediately, I threw the cigarette down and stepped down on it. I tried drinking, but I remembered how we used to drink once a month together to drown out our worries until you passed out and I carried you to your bed, assisting you in the morning when you had a massive hangover. I left the alcoholic drink after paying, not having taken more than a single sip without thinking of you. I knew that drugs were no way to go about things, so I never even attempted.

            The only thing I had left was self-harm. But I remember when you said you used to self-harm. You told me to never do it, for I’d regret it.

            So I was left… with nothing to help me forget you.

            Everyday, I would look into a mirror and imagine you by my side. I would take a walk and imagine you walking with me. I’d go dance and imagine you watching me. I’d cook and imagine you putting an apron over my head to avoid me from getting my clothes dirty.

            Even just laying in bed reminded me of how I used to sing with you before we slept. You voice was sweet as honey, smooth as velvet.

            And one day, I dragged myself to a club with Jonghyun. I didn’t drink. But he did. And I guess he was a bit too drunk, so I sent him home.

            I then remembered that it had been a year since we broke up. How had I survived so long? How had I gone so long without turning into some mad lunatic? I don’t know. I just knew that I was exhausted from all of this misery.

            I walked to a bar close to my old apartment. Our apartment. I stared at it for a long time before walking in and ordering the strongest drink they had. The man stared at me for a moment before nodding and bringing out my drink. I knocked it back quickly, setting it back down and asking for more. There was that thought of you and I drinking. And I nearly darted out of the bar. But I stayed, digging my fingernails into my palm, and waited for the next shot.

            He asked me if I could seriously handle it. I glared at him and that was all it took for him to pour me a bit more. I pulled out some money and slammed it onto the table. I’m not sure how much I set down. But I asked for another shot. And this continued for such a long time, I don’t remember much of that night. I remember vaguely of the guy frowning at me, a sympathetic gaze towards me as I told him of what was going on. I guess being drunk opened up my mouth and vocal chords.

            At some point, he patted me on the back and asked whether I needed help getting home. I probably said no, considering how I remember walking towards my old apartment.

            I was more than dizzy, and felt as if I’d puke, but I kept walking till I was almost at the door and saw a figure standing there at the front door.

            I remember seeing a girl. She looked so much like you that I felt tears stream down my face. But that’s all I remember before I passed out. 

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~DespisedSecret

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