I woke up one morning to the sound of the phone ringing. When we first moved in, Jimin had insisted on having a landline installed in case of emergencies. Only our family members knew the number, so it had to be one of them.

“Jimin…” I grumbled, rolling over. “Answer the phone.”

I yawned and stretched. “Jimin?”

The only noise that answered me was the constant ringing of the telephone.

“Damn it,” I whispered, rubbing my eyes.

I had forgotten. Jimin and I had broken up.

I threw off the covers and wandered into the living room. Although it had already been three weeks, I still hadn’t gotten used to living alone. I still hadn’t gotten used to life without Jimin.

“Hello?” I answered the phone drowsily.

“Honey, is that you? Or is this Jimin?” I recognized my mother’s voice on the other line.

I sighed. “No Mom, it’s me. Sorry, I just woke up.”

“You just woke up? It’s already the afternoon. Don’t you have work to do?”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I have some things to tell you, Mom.”

“Like what? Don’t tell me you got fired?”

“No...it’s not work-related. Besides, it’s not so easy for me to get fired. I’m a freelance writer, remember?”

“What is it, honey?” My mom’s voice was filled with concern.

“Jimin…Jimin moved out,” I answered in a small voice.

“Moved out? Why did he move out?”

“We, um…we broke up.” I could feel the tears coming. I had cried so often in the past three weeks that it felt like a bad habit I couldn’t break.

“You broke up? Why? What did he do?” My mom had never liked Jimin. To her, he was the guy who kept me away from home.

“He didn’t do anything, Mom. It just happened. I’m not even sure why myself.” I swiped away a tear.

My mother fell silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry, honey. I know it must be hard for you.”

I sat down on the floor and rested my head against the couch. “It is,” I whispered. “I honestly never knew that I could feel this sad.”

“Well, that’s what love will do to you,” my mom said, not unkindly.

“I just…I miss him so much. Mom, I just miss him. When I wake up, he’s not here and it’s like an ache. Like a chest wound that gets reopened every time I remember that he left me. I honestly don’t know what to do.” I rested my head on my knee and let the tears stream down my face.

“Mmm, honey. I’m so sorry," she murmured.

“And like…it’s not even that he didn’t want me, you know? He just didn’t have the confidence to believe that I really loved him. And that was my fault, Mom! I was such a prickly and sarcastic girlfriend. I’m surprised he didn’t leave me sooner.” I grabbed a tissue from the box next to me and blew my nose. Yukon padded over to me and put his paws on my feet, panting up at me excitedly. He had gotten so used to the sight of my tears that he didn't even try to comfort me anymore. He just thought it was normal.

After a moment, my mom said, “Have you talked to him about this?”

“What would I even say? Sorry for being a y girlfriend? Sorry for making you feel so bad about yourself that you had to leave me? Sorry for not saying I love you enough? He doesn’t want to hear it, Mom. He’s done with me.” I sniffled. “He doesn’t want to be with me anymore and I can’t change that.”

My mom was silent for a moment.

“Are you eating?” asked my mom.

“Not really,” I admitted reluctantly. “I can’t afford to eat out and I’m so horrible at cooking. The rent takes up most of what I earn.”

“Jimin isn’t helping you with rent?” she demanded, outraged.

“Mom, I can’t ask him that. It’s fine. I was thinking of moving, anyway.” I sat up and tried to collect myself.

“What, to a smaller apartment?”

“No…” I said carefully. “Back to Busan.”

“Busan!” My mother practically shrieked into my ear. I held the phone away in order to protect my hearing. “What do you mean, Busan? After all it took you to quit your job and move to Seoul to pursue your dream? Why would you move back there?”

I sighed. “Mom,” I said quietly. “You know I love Busan. And I can afford someplace cheaper there, and I can still do the same freelance work with my clients. It’s not like it’s such a far distance that I’ll need to give up on my dream. I’ll probably just have to find a different job as well.”

“What are you going to do?” she demanded. “What kind of job are you going to get?”

“I don’t know, Mom. Anything, really.”

My mom sighed. “Why don’t you just come home? Your father and I miss you.”

I played with my hair, uncomfortable. “I’ll visit you guys soon,” I promised. “It’s not so far away. Mom…you know there’s nothing for me at home.”

“I know, honey,” she replied softly. “I just miss you.”

“Me too, Mom. Me too.”

We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone, feeling desperately lonely.

“Damn it, Jimin.” I pulled my knees to my chest and hid my face in them. “Why’d you have to leave?”

After we broke up that morning three weeks ago, I had left the apartment while Jimin had packed up his things. I spent the morning by the Han River, trying to keep the tears at bay. Why did this have to happen? I thought we had been so happy. I thought Jimin had loved me so much. Why wasn’t he willing to work this out with me? Why was he leaving me after all of his promises?

When he finished packing, he sent me a simple text message with the words: Everything’s packed. Please take care of yourself.

I stared at the message, trying to make sense of his distant tone. Jimin had never sent me a message like this before. It finally felt over between us.

The first time I entered the apartment after Jimin had packed away all of his belongings, I searched every room for some small traces of him. He had been pretty thorough in his packing, even taking his favorite pair of chopsticks. I hunted through his dresser, hoping for a spare pair of boxers or his favorite sweatshirt that he always let me wear. All my efforts proved useless.

The only thing he hadn’t taken was his pillow. I curled up on our bed, for I would always think of it that way, and buried my face in his pillow. His scent overwhelmed me and I broke out in a fresh batch of tears. I quickly moved over to my side of the bed, reluctant to destroy the last trace of Jimin left to me.

Three weeks later and Jimin’s pillow had ceased to smell like him. After the phone call with my mom, I wandered into the bedroom, hoping to maybe conjure up something else of his. Were breakups always like this? Would I always be on the verge of tears and clinging to the remnants of a person who didn’t love me anymore? I missed waking up next to him, I missed his “Have you eaten?” texts, and I missed the way he used to want me. I missed everything about that stupid punk. Did he even miss me at all? Or was he glad to finally get rid of someone like me?

I sighed and decided that it was time to leave this place. This had been mine and Jimin’s home. I couldn’t make it only my home. I needed to move and forget about him. He wasn’t coming back. I truly believed that.

I went out into the entryway and opened up the hall closet to get some storage bins. Inside one of them I found a cardboard box tied with some string with a post-it note attached. I leaned in to get a better look, curious.

“Baby,” it read, “I never wanted it to end like this. I’m so sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry that I’ve made things like this. I won’t ask you to wait for me, but I couldn’t leave you without giving you some things to remember me by. I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want you to forget about the time that you loved someone like me. I’m so sorry. Love always, Jimin.”

I hurriedly pulled off the string and opened the box. Inside was Jimin’s Givenchy backpack. Tears sprang to my eyes. Stupid fool. Why would he leave something like this to me? I hugged it close to my chest, wishing that it could somehow turn into Jimin.

Something lumpy pressed against my stomach from inside the bag. I ped it to find Jimin’s favorite sweatshirt, a couple of undershirts, and a few pairs of his boxers. I buried my face in his sweatshirt, inhaling deeply. Stupid Jimin, I thought, who leaves these kinds of things for an ex-girlfriend? Do you want me to love you forever, you selfish idiot?

As I shoved Jimin’s clothes back into his bag, something velvety brushed against my fingers. I reached inside and pulled out a small jewelry box. I hesitated. Would Jimin really leave something like that to me? Gingerly, I opened the box. Inside was a ring. An engagement ring. An opal surrounded by two pearls, just what I had always wanted.

I closed the small box and held it in the palm of my hand. What kind of joke was Jimin trying to pull? He broke up with me but he wanted me to always love him? Selfish bastard, I thought bitterly. Despite my anger, I couldn't stop the tears from falling.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied some more writing on the back of the post-it note. I picked it up and read it.

“About the ring…you don’t have to keep it, but I felt strange doing so. It’s yours, baby. I picked it out for you. You can keep it or sell it or throw it away. I just wanted you to have it. Sorry.”

I took a shaky breath. I couldn’t throw this ring away. It would be like throwing away Jimin’s feelings. I took it into the bedroom and hunted through my jewelry box and found a spare chain. I threaded it through the ring and clasped the necklace around my throat. It would stay there, hidden under my clothes, until I felt like it was time to take it off. Until I felt like it was time to let go of Jimin’s feelings. Until I felt ready to let go of my feelings.

After a while, I went back to the hall closet and took out the storage bins. It was time to leave this place, I decided. I would never be able to let go of my feelings if I lived in this shrine dedicated to our past happiness.

It was time for me to move on.