Soundtrack: Jia Peng Fang - Air Mail

This diary belongs to Lee Seunghyun

Page: 16

26-August-2021

Jiyong is sleeping right now next to me. Sometimes he makes weird noises with his mouth, like little, thin whistles. It’s funny. I’ve noticed that he no longer cries during his sleep, and it relieves me. He seems, right now with his eyes closed peaceful and happy. I hope that’s true.

Youngbae called him today at morning. I don’t know what they talked about, but he kept smiling while hearing at Youngbae’s voice. I’m sure they had many things to talk about, things I don’t need to know. One thing I do know is my strong gratitude towards Youngbae. Even though he sometimes seems to hate me and stare at me with distrust and suspicion filled eyes. I am thankful of his existence in Jiyong’s life. It’s relieving the certainty of knowing there is someone who cares about him as much as I do.

We had planned to travel to some nearby villages around Kyoto today by train. But Jiyong awoke more tired and paler than the days before. I’m not sure if it’s because of our trip or because of his illness, but my worrisome about his condition grows stronger everyday. I talked with Kim Seok two days ago about the possibilities that Jiyong’s heart could not react well at his valve replacement surgery. And he suggested, based on Jiyong’s recent studies that maybe his problem is caused by a cardiomyopathy disease rather than just some valve malfunctioning, and that actually scares me. It petrifies me.

Jiyong as always, disguised his exhaustion with smiles, silly comments, trying desperately to distract my medical eyes from his slow movements, from his breathing, from his paleness, from his swollen feet. And I can do nothing but pretend that I can’t see his exhausted body praying for a rest.

So I ended up asking him if we could stay in Kyoto and cancel our plans for today, with the excuse I was the one who felt tired. He just smiled relieved and nodded, without even asking me anything or trying to convince me. It’s our particular silent and mutual understanding that amazes me the most. As if we didn’t need any spoken explanation, but to look at each other eyes.

One nice taxi driver, upon watching us wandering lost at the hotel reception and asking helpless at the receptionist ladies about nice places to go at that hour, suggested us to visit the Ryoan-Ji temple and even offered us to drive us there. As we had anything else in mind, we just nodded shyly and let ourselves be dragged there.

“You can’t come to Kyoto and not visit the Ryoan-Ji’s rock garden, its one fascinating thing,” said the taxi driver in a strong Japanese accent, staring at us through the rear-view mirror.

“What did he say?” asked Jiyong to me, with interested eyes. 

“That he grew up here in Kyoto and he likes gardening,” I said, jokingly, making fun of the fact Jiyong couldn’t understand a tiny bit of Japanese. Jiyong just nodded and looked at the neck of the driver confused.

“He said he likes gardening, for real?” he asked after a moment, still deeply confused, looking back at my eyes. But he saw something in my face that made him gasp and exclaim outraged, “Liar!”

We laughed and spoke in our foreign Korean like two young idiots the rest of the way, gaining an intrigued stare from the taxi driver, who only smiled shyly at us after leaving us in front of the Temple.

The rock garden was located right next to the temple. Surrounded by grass and maple trees. It consisted of a rectangular plot of pebbles surrounded by low earthen walls, with 15 rocks laid out in small groups over patches of moss. The most interesting thing, as the guide told us, is the fact that from any perspective you saw it, at least one of the rocks remained hidden from your view.

“It’s meaningful, don’t you think?” murmured Jiyong staring at the garden. His knees were folded in front of him while we were sitting over the grass; exactly with the same posture I found him the first time we met. “I think it represents uncertainty.”

“Uncertainty?” I asked, not really sure why would he think that.

“Yes. The hidden rock represents the things we don’t know in our lives, those things we just can see, but are there. Even if you are extremely sure about something, like watching 14 rocks right there,” he said, pointing at the garden with one of his fingers, “there’s always the probability you might be wrong, that there might be 15 rocks, one you can’t see.” He said frowning his lips a bit, as if he was thinking about his own description still trying to find the right words to explain himself.

“So you need to move and change the place you are seeing things from to watch the other rock, right?” I added, somehow drawn by his deep thoughts, somehow trying myself to watch things the way he did. I stared at him like a student watches his teacher, with expectation and excitement. He turned to face me with interest.

“Yes... you might see the other rock. But still, now there’s another one hidden from your view.” He said, after thinking for a while.

The garden remained in front of us, silent. I felt as if those rocks were placed there with no other purpose or meaning but to invite the viewers to think, to create.

“But that would mean you’ll never be able to feel sure about anything. That's discouraging.” I said, taken aback, looking at the garden defeated.

“Not alone,” Jiyong added after a moment of silence, lifting his eyebrows excited, his face showed the delight of finding one dificult answer. “You have to trust. You have to believe in me, when I tell you I can see a rock you can’t, and I have to believe in you, when you tell me about a rock I can’t see.”

I just kept there still. Looking at him with profound interest, compelled by the way the words left his mouth, flowing so easily.

“The feeling of uncertainty is overcome by trusting, by having faith,” he said more to himself, looking fascinated at the stones. “That’s meaningful, isn’t it? You can’t pretend to live by your own, you need someone else,” He whispered those things with an overwhelming tenderness. “You have to trust in them.”

We looked at each other for a short, strange moment. Me? I’ve being trusting him for a long time. I guess I trust him like I trusted my parents when they said they will never leave me alone, when they said we will be together always; with that kind of blind faith. And they never disappointed me: even though they died when I was younger, I still feel them next to me, deep inside me every single day, every single moment, at every choice I make. That’s the way I trust him: without doubts.

At the back of the garden, with bared feet over the grass, there was a group of Kanji students, with their black kimonos and red belts around their waists, tracing lines over a white canvas in front of them. With softness yet with strong determination, their brushes flowed over the paper, without missing one single line. Many symbols and figures created by the hands of those students, and the red and black lines stained the air with the smell of tint and concentration.

“Do you understand Kanji?” asked Jiyong, following my stare that was focused on the lines the students were painting.

“Not that much. I know a few of them only.” I answered looking with envy at the students, as I realized how difficult it was to master the use of Kanji’s. “The one at the far right means Fireworks, and the one next to it, I guess it means Blossoms.” I said, pointing at the symbols.

“And that one, the one in the middle?” asked Jiyong, pointing at the canvas of a young lady. I smiled, surprised by Jiyong’s choice.

“Do you like it?” I asked. Jiyong nodded in silence.

“It means music: the first symbol, the one at the top is on and means sound, and the one below is gaku and means enjoy: Ongaku: music.”

“It's so symbolic,” exclaimed Jiyong, gaining an interest to the figures painted over the canvas, his eyes twinkling in excitement. “What’s your favorite Kanji, Seungri?”

“I don’t know many.” I said, thinking about the Kanji’s I once learned while studying Japanese. “But I guess it could be melancholy. It is composed by autumn and heart. Melancholy: heart’s autumn. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Jiyong smiled particularly pleased and focused his eyes at the students. “It is” he said, after a while and closed his eyes.

Almost before sunset, we watched a Butoh spectacle at one of the corners of the temple. Jiyong placed himself between my legs and I slid my arms between his thin frame almost by inertia. That night’s theme was life. And so the dancers represented every stage of life through their movements: from the clumsy steps of a baby to the tired aged steps. Their bodies contorted in front of us, they pale, white painted faces showing sorrow, expectations, happiness and disappointment. It was as watching the souls of ourselves dancing in front of us, painting a show for the both of us to be mystified by.

“Ri,” murmured Jiyong lifting his eyes to find mines. “Do you remember that dream I told you about the other night? I feel as if I already saw this moment in my dreams.”

Yes, I did remember that dream. I even wrote about it before*. Isn’t it just stunning? How could it be possible? 

"You know what I think?" I suddenly questioned him, after a moment of not saying anything. I lifted my head when he turned his face towards me "That only those dreams that are dreamed together are reality." 

He only smiled with his eyes, the rest of his face remain undisturbed. I couldn't guess what he was thinking, for that particular moment, I couldn't.

Now when I see at Jiyong sleeping next to me, if I force myself to dream about him being ok. Will it turn real too? Will it?

Lee SH

Hi there! New Chapter =) Hope you like it. I'm sad cause it's ending, there is only 4 chapters more.... buuu. Thank you so much for subscribing and staying with me. Even though sometimes I feel I'm just boring you with this story, you are always there for me! Thank you so much! =)

Welcome to my new subs, is a pleasure to have you as my readers, my silent readers, friends, and loyal subscribers, you too, thanks!

On Sunday I will post the next chapter. And next week I'll post the remaning chapters. =) Bye bye till then!