“Where’s the beautiful lady? The one you brought last year, Kyungie dear?” Auntie Miyun asked with her round stature perched on my parent’s sofa. She turned and patted her daughter’s knee. “I told your mother she was a keeper, such a sweet girl,” the woman continued, still looking at me. I gave her a weak smile, mentally cursing the old bat.

“We’re no longer seeing each other,” I managed to tell her. “Excuse me, I need some air.” With that, I fled the living room and escaped through the kitchen, onto the back porch. I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a gust of breath I felt like I had been holding for days. “Way to enjoy Christmas, Kyungsoo,” I murmured to myself. I wasn’t even trying to keep my ‘Year’s Ending’ resolution. I was pitiful. I was only at my parents house, with family, because all the guys were out with their girls and I didn’t feel like being the seventh wheel.

“Son,” boomed the deep voice of my father as he stepped onto the porch. “Miyun suffocating you already?” he guessed with a chuckle. I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, but I didn’t want it. I wanted to wallow in my sorrow. I mentally scoffed; I am such a masochist.

I just nodded, not feeling the energy to reply. The old man placed his hand on my shoulder, the other hand gripping a cup of coffee. It was silent, only sounds of traffic and street walkers. But even then, it felt like empty noise, lonely noise. Even with my father standing beside me, the women in the house gossiping, the teenagers on the street. It was lonely; my heart was.

“It’ll happen again,” my father spoke up after sipping his coffee.

I scoffed aloud this time. “Thanks, Dad, that’s comforting,” I replied, staring blankly ahead.

The man chuckled and slapped me on the shoulder. “I meant that you will find another that you love so dearly, like her. You won’t necessarily feel heartache again, but it’s very well possible,” he clarified. What if I don’t want to find another? I would’ve said that aloud, but I didn’t trust my voice, so he continued. “All I’m saying is: you’re hanging on by a thread when there’s a brand new rope. But you have to let go to get to it.” With that, he patted my back more softly, comfortingly, and went back inside the house.

Not only am I holding tightly to the thread, but it’s tied around my heart. I couldn’t just let go of the thread, it would rip my heart out along with it. I stood there, debating whether or not I should return to my apartment or go back inside and deal with more questions about her. My phone ra