Unspoken, Untouched
Unspoken, Untouched
"Ho Jung, take a break and come eat. You did more than enough for today." In attempts to perfect the dinner, I straightened the spoon that seemed slightly crooked against the napkin. I waited for her to take her seat across from me as I mustered the best smile I could afford without trying to make it look faker than it already was. The only answer I received was a cold stare from my wife but I was already used to this, the uncomfortable silence.
The stillness was so thick it seemed to be suffocating me. I broke her gaze by looking around the now clean dining room that was missing the papers scattered all over the table or chips sprinkled over the wooden floor."You should sleep early tonight so you won't have trouble waking up tomorrow." I spoke the only words that would form in my mind.
"Because it would be bad if I don't go to work. Right? That's all I'm worth in this house. I'm just someone who goes out to earn money." she scoffed, rolling her eyes. The venom in her voice seemed to penetrate through my skin and out all the energy I had in me to keep the corners of my mouth lifted. I didn't try at all to stop it. What was the use? It was like this every night.
"If that's how you took my words, then so be it." I replied, looking up to meet her icy eyes once again before she seemed to finally notice the food in front of her. She calmly picked at her food as if nothing about the situation seemed odd to her, and that irritated me. Tired of broken relationship, I had a sudden urge to ask her what I had to do in order fix it, but my pride reminded me that there was no reason for me to be sorry about anything.
Amidst the silence, I resumed to eating my food, which was my way of trying to show that I had not lost. I didn't know, however, what was even entering my mouth at this point but rather my escaping thoughts. The empty words clung onto the tips of my tongue and I wondered if she was feeling in the same situation as I was.
"My own husband doesn't love me. Who is there to love me?" she muttered in her usual calm voice. Her words sounded so... normal. Was she not realizing how that hurt me so? Or was she doing this on purpose? I wanted to tell her no, that she was wrong, but that itself sounded terribly wrong at least in my mind. So I did what I thought was best.
The chairs screeched against the floor as I excused myself for water. My back to her, she watched as I grew further from her. She watched how I was being a coward. She saw me running away, scared to face the consequences of trying to set things right. She saw everything but the things I wanted her to see.
I wanted her to see past my skin, how much this was hurting me, hurting the both of us. I wanted her to see the answer to go back to how things were before. I wanted to remind her of us back when we were happy together.
But she couldn't see it. And I couldn't say it either.
"You must think I'm mentally-ill, right? Is that why you're not talking to me?" she talked to my back as I reached for two cups and the water pitcher. My mouth stayed shut because I feared that the growing lump in my throat would fall out. For a second, I wanted to let it out because it hurt.
"Chanyeol, why aren't you answering me?" her voice cracked and I wanted to convince myself that she was challenging me to say the words I wanted to tell her. That she had, indeed, seen through me and felt the same way.
"I just did." was all I could say. I felt stupid. No, I was stupid or maybe we were just both blind to it all.
"Your words are so heartfelt, I'm touched." her sarcastic tone was back and my previous hope vanished into mid air. My feet led me back to the dinner table as I set the second cup in front of her, pouring the water into the cup exactly halfway. I also filled my cup halfway before setting down the pitcher with a loud thud. Almost immediately, I chugged down the cup of water as if my problems would be swallowed as well.
When I set my cup down and wiped my mouth using the back of my hands, she was staring at me again. I was surprised to notice that her eyes were no longer sharp but extremely dull, almost lifeless. If I told her how I truly felt, would I be able to witness the lively eyes I had once come to love? If I told her that I was affected from our arguments, that I was hurting as well, would it lessen the pain?
Would she feel the same way?
I was too scared to find out because no words left my mouth.
No words to stop her from leaving the room, away from my sight. No words to call out for her. No words to change our future. No words to embrace her, my wife, my past, my one and only Lee Ho Jung.
Forcing my eyes off of her leaving figure, I gazed at the empty seat in front of me that could have been much more. My eyes trailed to the side.
Her cup had been left untouched.
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