Living on a boat seems fun at times; being able to drift along with the waves, lying there on the deck, in the moonlight and watching those glimmering stars, hearing the waves softly crash against the boat over and over as it sits there in the middle of the ocean, resting. It seems peaceful, but it is isolated. You are distanced from the world and have less cares in the world than a lot of people do. You could fear the dangers below the surface of your home, but that isn’t so. You’ve learned that the ocean is the creatures’ home and you are merely living above them, basically intruding on their environment. So you don’t fear anything below the surface anymore.

But that’s why she’s there. Living in the middle of the sea; lost in the tranquil, serendipitous place she has been fond of since she was a child. She used to fear this place so much that the very thought of going out to sea on her father’s boat would throw her into a panic attack, lasting roughly around twenty minutes – give or take.

But what brought her out here, making her face her fears, is an entirely different story. One she has locked away in her mind, but it creeps out in peaceful moments, toying with her sensitive emotions and messing her thoughts up until she pleads for sleep to take her away. It was an event, one that she had heard about a lot, which drove her to live on the waters, far away from land, and almost asking to be eaten up by the surrounding sea.

She would dive into the water, not worrying about what predators would try to attack her, and would lie there, floating and thinking about life. The event. The person involved in the tragic accident. What was the accident exactly? She had no idea. She just remembers the night. That stormy, helpless night that has left such an imprint on her soul.

Her father and his helper, a boy she fawned over for months, headed out on a sea animal rescue one late night; the stars weren’t out, the sky was clouded in the dark, threatening to storm at any given moment. No other rescuers would bother to respond to the call; the job was left to her kind-hearted father and that boy. That damned boy who would sell his soul to rescue a precious living creature. Her father asked her if she wanted to come along; watch them save the innocent life of some beast she forgot the name of. She had shaken her head furiously, angered by the thought of her father trying to make her go out to sea – the place she feared. She had stomped off to her room, angry, and waited in bed for his return. It was like he didn't even remember why she feared that Hellish place beyond the shores.

Back then, she recalls, she thought of the two in an entirely different light. Her father was kind, of course, but she saw him as someone who only showed love towards animals and fellow animal lovers. Why couldn’t she get his traits and love them, too? She disliked animals; she thought they were cute at times, but that didn’t stop her from disliking them. And she thought because of that, her dad felt some sort of bad feelings towards her, not wanting her as his own child. She wished for her mother’s return, but knowing that was impossible, she stuck to dealing with the fake love she thought her father gave her.

And then there was his helper, that boy, the one who stood merely inches above her and had a warming smile. She felt at ease whenever he was near; the smile of his calming her nerves and making her fade away into a bliss. And his soothing voice and caring ways drew her towards him. But the only problem was the fact he was too much like her father. He loved animals with a passion, cared way more than necessary, and she felt he had the same facade as her father. Which all of that was untrue. She kicked herself for ever letting the ‘fake' idea cross through her mind.

She remembers how the boy treated her. He was always kind and asking about how she was and how life was. He told her stories of his childhood and what brought him to want to take care of animals. Something about being too close to his pet and watching it suffer from a type of cancer or something. She couldn’t remember everything from those past years. Everything about the two men seemed to be a blur.

The night of the accident however, she waited up the entire night, falling asleep around the twilight hours, thinking that the animal was severely injured so her father had to stay until the next day. She wouldn’t think of the storm that had set out on the sea, threatening anything that came in range of it. And since she was already mad at her father, she didn’t really mind the fact he didn’t return. It wasn't unusual for her father to be gone for a while. But most times it was just a few hours passing by.

But as soon as the worry sank into her small body, the phone rang. Hoping it was her father saying he would return home soon, she ran to it and picked it up quickly. Five minutes later she hung up and kicked the nearest thing to her, a table holding an old lamp and picture, knocking the items from it, letting glass and pottery shatter. She screamed. She screamed until her voice cracked and all that was left were silent pleas. Nothing was real. This was a nightmare; payback from her emotions for being so angry at him. She wasn't just angry over this, that's what made her feel worse. She's acted horribly to him due to it being near her mother's death date, and it is barely mentioned this year. She was mad he had been dating around. She was mad that he now wouldn't come through those off-white doors at the back of her house and tell her all about the creature he saved from the sea. She was mad she didn't go with him.

That evening, she sat on her back porch, staring off into the distance where the sea’s waves hit the shore; back and forth, back and forth.

“We found the boat, wrecked against the lighthouse, but it was demolished. There were no bodies or animal on it or near it, but there were blood stains and blood on some rocks. I’m sorry, Jinhee.”

She threw a rock out into her sandy backyard that led to the shores. Her dream hadn’t ended yet. That’s what she kept telling herself. That when she fell asleep that morning, she was forced into this nightmare and wouldn’t come out until she found her father and the boy. It was a state of denial, but she didn't know that. And the sad part, she knew deep down, was the fact she couldn’t cry about it. She screamed, she broke objects within her house, and she vented aloud to nothing in particular about how her father is stupid. Was stupid.

“He doesn’t care about me. You’re crazy,” she had told the boy. He had laughed quietly to himself, thinking against her ideas of her father.

“He loves you. Why not believe that?”

“Because it isn’t the truth.”

“Don’t you think you’ll ever regret thinking that?”

“Never.”

“Why?’

“Because... someone who doesn’t show their love properly shouldn’t be given the benefit of the doubt about it. If they love you, they’ll show you. If not, why bother?”

“So you think just because no one shows you their love for you, their love is nonexistent?”

“Exactly.”

She had bitten down on her bottom lip, recalling that conversation too intensely. She should have never doubted anything about her father. She never did that to her mother, so why her father? She knew this was another case of ‘never take things for granted’ because she had. Her last person she had taken for granted.

“Ah, I see.” The boy nodded. “So if I said I loved you, you wouldn’t believe me?” She wanted to smile, but she knew his words were lies. Hearing that from a crush was a dream, but in this situation, she knew that it was just an example. Why bother getting excited over nothing.

“I would never believe that. It’s stupid,” she told him, laughing it off as she looked at her textbook, going back to studying.

As weeks passed, that memory never faded. She knew her father loved her, and she realized that. It hit her hard and eventually... she went to see a therapist. But she questioned the boy’s words to her. A part of her felt giddy, thinking he possibly liked her at that time. He left the world liking her. Some part of her was anxious thinking of the possibility that she was liked in return, but it was pointless. She knew that.

But as she lay there in the water, thinking and drifting along with the waves, all these years later, she smiled to herself.

“I think that boy has a crush on you,” her father told her one day at dinner. “I can’t allow it. You won’t date until you are thirty years of age.”

“Dad, you can’t control me.” She rolled her eyes. “Who are you speaking of anyway? You have loads of workers my age and above and I have guy friends, too.”

“Ah! That boy,” he told her, taking another bite of food. He spoke with his mouth full. “Kim Joonmyun.”

After all these years, her being in her mid-twenties, she reflected, a little sad. The thoughts of a lost teenage love set in on her mind, and heart, hurting her in ways she never knew possible. She eventually cried one night, a couple of years after that. After the incident. After losing her father. After losing Joonmyum. It was heart breaking to her to finally realize everything.

That was why she went to live at the sea. The thing she feared most, the thing that took away the people she never knew she loved so dearly; the thing she hated with every ounce of her human being. She wanted to face the fear and be closer to what took away those loved ones. No matter how crazy she felt about the idea. Then she lived there. On the boat. By herself except with her pet dog, who adored the blue waters they were on. She was at sea, no longer afraid of the harsh storms that appeared at the weirdest times. No longer afraid of the unknown world that the sea held below it. She was content where she was.

She swam over to her boat, grabbed the handrails to the ladder that led up to the boat. She stopped midway and looked at the given name of her boat and smiled softly, letting her fingers trace the name slowly as the sun set. Joon(myun)-(Hyun)Wook's Night.

준욱의 밤

 

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written: 12.30.12