Keeping your chin down never did any good. (Jun In) – Keeping you chin down never did any good. I was not going to spend the whole weekend complaining about my own relationship lacking. I really need to work that out : knowing what to say and when to say it, most important. I'm likely to shut up and dwelling on until I sometimes misrepresent the memories, and that's when I usually find the right thing to say... But that's already been weeks too late. Because of this, they have been too many from my past, those who have thought they could bully me without fearing a revolt. Sometimes, I would like them to see me the way I am now... Well, now but not right now, because I'm not quite illustrating my change of temper in the way I am feeling.

To avoid to get crushed by guil towards myself, I went back to work. Because of this and also because I have to. I've got things to catch up and periods won't wait; To respect them is my biggest headache, even if I give most of my time to writing. That's a rigorous discipline where luck is not that often invited. The invisible muses inspiring inexhaustibly their authors are closer to a legend than to an absolute truth. Most of the time, you hate what you do and if you would listen to yourself, you would never finish anything. Distante and coldness often are necessary to make you progress.

When I sat at my desk, today seemed to be an endless day but in the end, frustration is backing me into brand new corners and words are flooding on the paper like a stream freed from its dams. It makes me able to confirm a rumor after I have broke another one : tortured (or at least a little under the weather), a writer is always more productive, more reliable. I'm not going to find it difficult to finish off each of my projects in just one day if I'm staying on course.

This morning, no music. I almost have my ipod, as always or almost, when I decided to go back to work and then, I don't know... Some kind of intuition. A bittersweet déjà-vu taste in the mouth made me understand that this time, silence was welcomed. I would like the reason behind this to be an absolute concentration but the truth is less romantic. I can't help hoping for a sign, anything, coming from the next rooms. I know Mi Yeon is here, close, and I wonder what's on her mind. Just to think about it, the tension gathered in each parts of my body is getting thicker and words are flooding again. Without even realizing, I'm experiencing what is the blessing of the author. Maybe I should capture the sensation as long as I can, before it vanishes away, capricious and undecided.

Right now, I sincerly think all that could be disturbing me would be a brown whirlwind called Na Rae. Once Na Rae puts the word end to what she had to write, Na Rae never cares about what I still have to do. The more naturally she can, she thinks that I'm free as well to do anything she wants to do. It's always the same. She calls me, tells me she's downstairs and doesn't give me no choice about whether I can refuse or not. She has moved from Seocho to Sadang, it's not to return empty-handed.

It means that, of course, when a few shy knocks are resounding on my door, tearing me off my thoughts rambling as words are still collapsing, I can't say I'm not expecting it at all. It sometimes happen that she meets a resident down the youth hotel, opening the door for her without her to have to wait for me to do the entry code. The time written on my cellphone screen, somehow, baffles me. It's too early for Miss Moon Na Rae to already have finished her homework, being waken up and dressed, ready to battle with the city and the Seoul subway.

What's going to happen probably have happened to the bests of us. Spending time and energy, twisting your guts about something for endless minutes. Always keeping in mind the very last image, the very last word. Hoping there would be a table that would turn... And right when your mind focuses on something else, able to get free, that's when you need to think about it the most.

Without my fears of the previous night, I'm going to open the door. I'm expecting for it to be the manager and hope I have not forgot to hide the empty beer bottles. I'm clearing my throat, just in cas I would need to justify anything, fixing up my hair and clothes, just in cas as well. It's always better to explain yourself with a general look worthy of the name when you have broke a rule. It builds confidence more easily.

My heart is skipping a beat. Mi Yeon is rising her eyes on me. I could swear she was fixing up her clothes and hair right before. She's got it loose, falling smooth on her shoulders and apparantly rid of kinks and frizz of the morning. She also changed her outfit, this time she's dressed with a fashionabe short and tight skirt bringing out girls' legs and hips and a sweater which color makes her pretty pale and pinky complexion brighter. She's really cute. Exactly my type. Not too childish (I can't get to understand why my fellows are obsessed over baby women), not too filled with sensuality neither.

She's greeting me with a bow of her head and I do the same. I'm waiting to know what made her knock on my door this time with a certain apprehension. Obviously, she doesn't seem to be locked up outside. Maybe last night, we have been too noisy, laughing and chatting until very late, and the manager has complained and so she wanted to tell me we will have to slow it down not to get problems.

I'd rather stay pragmatic. If you think by letting your emotions guiding you, you're often disappointed. I think I had enough massive dissatisfactions in my twenty years-old of existence.

She's nervously waddling on herself, the tip of her hair. Our silence is irritating. Last night, as she was laughing, she was touching my shoulder, she was brushing my thighs with hers when she was getting up from my bed. We were talking like old acquaintances finally meeting again... This morning, there's a distance between us. As if we each have realized limits have been crossed and we had to get back to our places, because if we don't, something bad could be happening. If I had to be honest, I would admit this distance hurts me.

"What's wrong?"

My voice was a little rude. I regret it immediately but the harm is done. Earlier, I was able to pretend but now, I can't help. That's the distance she had imposed between us that's guiding me. And the fear to get trapped by pointless hopes. I'm no more a teenager, I'm a young adult. I'm trying to act as an adult even if that means not being always really likeable. The exertion is demanding a coldness which I often lacked.

She's frowning to the high for a few instants but then quickly perks up again. Her boyd is straightening, her attitude is turning dignified again. A smile appears on her face. All my resolutions are crumbling, inside avalanche. I am not quite an adult yet.

"In fact... I wanted to thank you for saving my skin last night. Not only you welcomed me but you also lent me your bed and I'm holding a lot of grudges against myself for the way I have been leaving earlier. You surely are busy but... I'd really like to invite you for the lunch. As a wage, you see."

It's probably just my writer's overflowing imagination but I swear she has learned a text by heart and played it in front of me. I guess behind that charming self-confidence, coated with a certain acidulous sweetness, there's the coarseness of the doubt. The fear of rejection. It makes her touching and the whole resistance still left inside of me is swept along.

Yet I would have liked to give her a taste of my past frustration. By refusing, I would have nothing to gain except that : knowing she would torment herself about what she has done and shouldn't have done but most of all about what she haven't done but should have better done. To say herself we both passed by something fabulous. To regret for hours, maybe for her whole life even. It would be cruel, cruel and childish and I don't want to be that way. Not with her, or with anyone at all. It's not in my nature. Or else I wouldn't be worthier than all those ones from my past that I curse.

"Alright. Yes, why not? To get some fresh air won't do me any harm, after all. And the streets are an inhexaustible inspiration. Stay here."

I have said it like I was detached, this time. Let's not get carried away. Let's not start to believe things that aren't true. It's just a lunch together, after all, not a declaration of love. Not enough to worry myself sick. As long as she will put that distance between us, anyway, I know that nothing will change.

I'm grabbing my coat in the little closet where my clothes are. I know Mi Yeon's eyes are staring upon me. She's only staring at me once she know I won't be looking at her the same way. When we're face to face, her eyes are never put on me. Here, that's a lack of good-manners. Yet, from the moment I'm turning my back on her, I know she's watching me. I would rather not deduce anything from that.