The sky has no limits, you think and sigh. Sometimes, you try to look as far as you can, you ask useless questions such as why you were brought into this world and you come to the conclusion that useless is the same as painful and that you shouldn’t bother anyway.

“ara, yoo ara”, taekwoon repeats. The wind carries his voice, his scent, his whole being to you. It breaks your bones and you feel cold, desperate and loved.  

Your name sounds foreign even in his lips. Take it back, you want to ask him. Take it back, you beg but the words are left unsaid, locked in your mind that is a prison inside you, whose bars are deeply engraved in your heart and brain, like a stake. The internal hemorrhage doesn’t stop. You don’t want him to say your name (and realize it’s still the same numb feeling you get). Your eyes travel between the sky and his face, you hesitate for a while, isn’t it all useless? (all painful).

Your eyes wander. They simply won’t rest on him. Maybe if you look away, you’ll forget that he’s sitting next to you (and that he shouldn’t). His words and his being are the same. Maybe, maybe if you don’t listen, he won’t matter anymore.

Your mind is playing tricks on you: ara, ara, yoo ara; different voices call your name. They utter words that are exchanged every day. Yoo ara, which dress are you wearing for prom? You’d look good even in a plastic bag anyway. You decide to think that the nasty voices echoing in your head are tricks your mind pulls rather than a personal issue. You don’t take responsibility for anything. You’re nothing but pieces that long to be put together (isn’t that why you’ve let him sit next to you, ara, yoo ara?).

One voice covers another. Ara eonnie, please don’t accept soohyun’s confession even if you feel bad for him, he’s such a loser. They’re calling your name, they’re coming for you and you’re covered in the shadows of a closet that only you see. Ara, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you, you ranked first again. They see you differently and you wonder if you’re colorblind or if they’re hallucinating. Can’t you see me? Can’t you see me? You never question yourself and if you do, you think you’re a different piece of yourself. The delusion is comfortable and you sink inside that feeling. Yoo ara-sshi, I’m Lee Daniel, shinhwa company’s heir. I’ve never enjoyed a blind date as much as I’ve done today, I’ll contact you. You’ve learned that when your mind plays tricks on you, there is no use trying to find escape. The fastest way to get away from it is to feel it all, at one go, to hurt once and for all. There are tons of useless questions you ask yourself: is love the same? if it hurts once and for all, is it gone after?       

“fighter, are you sleeping?”, you were so close to forgetting his presence but he has spoken and his comforting voice fills your soul now. You open your eyes.     

He doesn’t look at you, he sees through you.  Fighter, are you sleeping? Words are different kinds of poison. His are opium.  Relief is an unknown feeling to you. Anything foreign is no good to you, not even your name. Enough, you think. You stand up, indifferent –you’d like to think but your racing heart says otherwise- he grabs your arm and you let the weight of your body falls on him. You cling unto him. Once and for all and then, it'll go. You come closer, your lips almost touching. He doesn’t move. He freezes at his spot and you know that he knows why you’re doing that but you pretend he doesn't (you lie to yourself, you lie every time). One kiss, just one kiss and it will be gone. He kisses you softly. He always kisses you first.

It’s not fair, you hear him argue but it is your very own objection. He’s said nothing and your thoughts drive you crazy. Getting drunk isn’t enough. You need to get drunk unto him. How is that? You’d like to know but you’re clueless. You hold on to him. You’re a sinking boat. You’re a doll in his arms and your mouth looks for his endlessly. He barely moves. He does what you want him to. He always abides by the laws you set, except for kissing (he always kisses you first). Although you hide your face in his neck and breaths him, you think you'll only love him once (once and for all). You've left your feelings in a part of you that is foreign, even to you, like your name in his lips and the memories that you deny. You always let everything die inside but it never fades. It remains unchanged.   

There’s a word that is familiar to you though.

Fighter.

It echoes, rings, sings inside you. It flatters you. You’ve never liked a nickname as much as you’ve liked being called fighter.     

“look at me”, you ask him (you know that he knows why, that it’s a goodbye). No one has ever looked at you the way he does now. He doesn’t see you, he sees through you. His eyes are a mystery you’d like to unveil. You wonder why he’s always been nice to you. You want to remember how his eyes found a shelter in you back in high school. You’d like to but your memories are something you shouldn’t mess with (you shouldn’t remember). His love breaks you... You’re no longer static pieces longing to be put together. You're shreds of soul swimming in the need you developed for him and drifting away. One piece doesn’t go in the same way as the other. You are damaged and you laugh (once and for all)

Taekwoon rarely smiles but you’ve realized long ago that he loves the sound of your laughter. Please smile, you beg inside. Please, once and for all. He bites on his lower lip and the sound comes out suffocated, strangled, vaguely reminding you of how it was before (but you shouldn't remember). You laugh harder.

“you still don’t know how to laugh, do you?”, you .

He takes you in his arms. Teach me how, he says. Teach me how, but you never take responsibility for anyone, not even for yourself.