The first time

that a certain boy

would tell me

that he loves me,

I had always hoped

it would be

from my first love,

and it did.

You'd think with a sweet opening like that, this would be a story filled with hearts,  rainbows, and sunshine with a happily ever after. But, I digress. I should continue talking about this wonderful memory that I doubt I'll ever forget.

A few years ago, I went out with a guy that I knew since freshman year. His name was Park Chanyeol. We were well acquainted with each other, stopping to say hi and making small little conversations for convenience, though it would always grow awkward between us. It was during high school, and my high school was full of people worrying about social status and sadly, to a much lesser extent, grades. I was one of those people.

You see, I was super clueless about how the romantic relationships really worked. Maybe it was because guys believed that I wasn't good enough for them or whatever. Nonetheless, I grew up with watching all these melodramas with my family, where the more favored female lead always ends up with the main character and everything works out for everyone in the end; no matter how much chaos and tension was created. I grew up with the mentality that love prevailed over everything, and that once you find it, your life will be perfect and complete. So, I made endless expectations and plans for my first relationship. I envisioned my first love interest to be like all the guys that I liked in those dramas. Tall, cute, modest personality, and most importantly, a beautiful smile. I didn't realize how superficial that sounded, but I had a good reason as to why I found a smile more important than personality: because I want to be one of the main reasons why my love smiles every single day. I'd daydream about meeting this dream boy every single day.

So, with Chanyeol, it was that kind of friendly yet awkward relationship until we were juniors, and we decided to date just for the fun of it. I figured that he fit all my standards, and after asking him out, we started dating. We got to know each other more, and to me, he really seemed like the one. I didn't really know any better, though. It was my first relationship. Near the end of our senior year on the bus ride back, he gently whispered to my ear and said the words, "I love you," as I was lying atop his broad shoulder. It was our first anniversary that day, and saying that was the best thing he could've done now that I look back at it.

My face lit up

as bright as the morning sun,

and my eyes

began to sparkle

like the shooting stars in the sky

as they turned into

small crescent moons,

along with a radiant smile

that ran from ear to ear.

I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked at him. I smiled and could feel the blood rush to my cheeks, but sat upright throughout the entire ride, obviously being taken aback at the confession. I didn't know why though. I knew I felt the same, but how was I supposed to know what love was? Was it really love? Or was it just infatuation? Why did he think that he loves me? How?

I felt as if I was on uncharted territory, but instead of feeling really overwhelmed by how lost I felt in that instance; I liked every bit of it. I stared out the window, not wanting to create further dialogue or even eye contact until we reached our stop. I guess he could read the situation and my expression faster than I thought he could, since we sat in silence. As we reached our stop, he grabbed my hand as we went down the steps and onto the sidewalk. I didn't protest at all on the way back to my house. I unknowingly found myself smiling as we walked hand in hand.

It was because

I had believed him.

I had believed every word

that he said.

We reached the front steps of the deck, and we exchanged our farewells to each other. It was a bit disheartening, considering the fact that he'd just said those three important words that I've wanted to hear my whole life, and that we were leaving for different colleges soon. I opened the door and turned to wave back at him until he ran out to me and pulled me close. He said it again. "I love you." I was so curious as to why he was saying this, so I decided to ask why. He simply said, "I love you because I need you. For the past year, you've been the reason why I can smile everyday. Without you, I don't think I would ever be the same. Without you, I would feel incomplete."

He then took out a rose and gave it to me. As I looked at it closely, I noticed something unusual about this certain rose. It was fake. I asked him the reason why he gave me this, and he said, "This is a symbol of my undying love. I will love you until this flower dies." I thanked him, and replied back the same; that I loved him. We also shared our first kiss that day. I immediately thought that this was the perfect relationship that I wished for.

But,

when a boy says "I love you,"

he really means,

"I am ready to start getting

incompetent with you

right now."

I thought we would have a better and stronger relationship than before, given that after the confessions, we'd be in different cities that were miles and miles away from each other for college. As it turned out, I had expected too much after the first "I love you." Every year, I'd always be greeted with a new fake rose, saying that our bond is everlasting, yet he was the same boy who tells you that same thing when he's two hours late for your fourth anniversary date. He was the same boy who would say that same "I love you," after making you wait for his sorry outside in the rain. You'd think with how late he was, he must've forgotten about your own anniversary until you had to remind him. I guess I thought I had realized the struggles of having a long-distance relationship though, since I still forgave him for everything he seemed to lack. I think that was my biggest fault. I kept forgiving him without hesitation, yet he didn't deserve it.

The words

"I love you"

were supposed to be

a promise, but he

would turn it

into an excuse.

After college, I decided to get my own place. I've always wanted to be independent. After telling Chanyeol where I was moving, he told me he coincidently found a job nearby, and we decided to live together after he insisted. I thought everything was going perfectly fine. I found a job working at a flower shop nearby just so I wouldn't have to spend all my tips on the bus ride home and could spend my time walking and enjoying the fresh air. It was like that for about a year.

Everyday, I'd find myself enjoying more of my time at work rather than at home. Whenever I came home, Chanyeol would always be at work or out with his friends. I always got that same note with another fake rose saying, "Sorry. Please forgive me," on the dining table. Eventually, those notes would disappear and I'd either get a lousy text message or nothing at all. I felt that something was gradually changing, and that the outcome would not turn out in my favor.

On our fifth anniversary, when both of us were leaving for work, I hugged him tightly from behind. He pushed me away, telling me that I was making both of us late. I asked him what day it was. He stated he didn't have any time to answer nonsensical questions like these and left. My mind filled with sadness and curiosity. Was this some type of joke? Should I be laughing right now? Was I really nothing to him? Did he think I was easy?

I then realized that he wasn't the same person anymore. He never smiled back. He wasn't nearly as sincere as he once was. I decided that I had enough. I packed my bags, and took the next bus out. I entered the bus with my head down, crying silently as I try covering my face going to my parents' house.

Yesterday, it would've been my sixth anniversary with Chanyeol. I haven't heard from him since I left, but I decided to give him a bouquet with a letter, just to say a proper goodbye. I sent it personally in front of the house while on my break. I rang the doorbell and went back to my car. I was about to leave until he opened the door moments after and picked up the bouquet. He then set it down on the chair on the deck, and opened the letter. I drove away, but I've written that letter so many times that I remembered it word for word.

Hey there, Mr. Park.

Can I call you Chanyeol? I'm not sure if you'd feel comfortable, but I'm doing it anyways. Anyways, remember these? These were all the roses you gave me when you disappointed me. You said that you'd love me until the last one dies. None of them have died yet, but it looks like your feelings have. Well, you also did say that these roses represented your feelings towards me. I guess they were artificial, or simply put, fake. I guess it makes sense. The most common name for a Korean female is Yoomi, which isn't one of a kind, so I'd understand if you thought I was just another one of the girls in this world. I really do wish you all the best. I bet you've already found a girl who'll remain superior compared to me. A girl that's rare and special, unlike myself. Don't worry about me. I'm fine on my own. I've always wanted to be independent after all. Thanks for the experience, and hopefully I can face you soon enough. I've already forgiven you. Maybe we could go out for coffee sometime soon. I'll call you.

-Kim Yoomi

P.S: The first time you said you loved me and I asked you why, you said it was because you needed me, and that I was the one who made you smile. I hope you always find a reason to smile and to love; even if I can't be that reason anymore. You don't need me for those types of things anymore.

Sorry. Please forgive me.

What's the use

of crying over him now?

He was only a boy then.

He was young and reckless.

Now, he's a man.

It was just too late.

I didn't feel sad anymore. Sure, I had still cared for him, but I actually wanted to move on. I wanted Chanyeol to move on with a more serious attitude with another girl that'll be perfect for him. I was sure that we would be better off this way. Now, with all of this, you might have expected a cliché ending as I mentioned in the beginning. I know out there that there's a guy that I'd love to be around with again. Chanyeol was good company for the time being, but in the end, it just wasn't him. So, maybe love didn't give me a happy ending with this guy. But, life is about more than just a happy ending. It's about the story.

And this is just another completed chapter of my life.

a/n: ahaha hi there! it's another super short oneshot, only this time, it was 500 words more! (not that it made much of a big difference lol) anyways, this is my "completed chapter," and i really hoped you enjoyed! comments and upvotes are certainly loved and welcomed, so come into my open arms~ /sings exo's version of open arms/