Shouts into the Void

The last time I saw you, you were wearing that maroon sweater – my sweater which you never returned after you told me you felt cold while we were walking at the airport. The truth is, you did not tell me you felt cold. You despised asking for favours. Yet, you were rubbing your fragile hands together, blowing them every once in a while and I couldn’t take it so I joined your pity party and took my maroon sweater off my luggage and handed it to you. You blow your hands once more before you turned and said,

“What’s this for?” You already know what it’s for.

I smiled and simply placed it in your hands, closing your fists so you would get a good grip of it, so that you wouldn’t return it to me. You tried to deny it but I could see that the ends of your nails were changing into a lighter shade of purple.  The sweater’s sleeves are longer than your arms, the frame bigger than yours. The ends of the sleeves cover your tiny pretty hands. You thanked me and we walked side by side until boarding time, soon finding out that we were to seat next to each other for the next 4 hours. You talked to me like you always do – in fact, you never stop talking but this time the sound of your voice echoes in my ears and as much as I wanted to listen, it slowly became the background noise. All I could see was you.

- PCY

Today, I wore the jacket you gave me – I mean the one you lent. It still smells of sunflowers and fabric softener. It still feels like you. I felt cold and I didn’t want to tell you because I knew exactly what you were going to do but clearly, it was different from what I imagined. I imagined you placing my tiny hands into yours – warmth rushing between us two but instead I saw you getting your jacket and the next thing I know, you were handing it to me. Our fingers brushed ever so slightly as you smiled but, in that smile was nothing – it was nothing. I thought to myself that you were just doing something nice because you always do nice things to me. The way you hold the back of my neck when I cry, or when you call me in the middle of the night just so I could be the first to hear the song you’ve composed, the way you make me smile when things go wrong because they often do...

You do it to everybody else. That is the problem.

 - BBH

Today, I saw you again. You said hello like nothing happened – like I didn’t know it happened. I was there and you were there too. In fact, it only consisted of “us”. That day you told me you liked me and I kept my mouth shut. I drew myself closer to you, kissing your forehead in affirmation – this, I don’t do to everyone else. You leaned on my shoulder and I could feel you smile. As you pulled yourself away from my hug, I told you I felt the same but two years later you told me that it wasn’t enough. You told me that I’m just being nice. I tried to argue but you wouldn’t listen. Why would you think that I do it to everyone else?

That’s when I knew that you were seeing things through. Were you finding a way outside the maze or were there really holes in the paper? Were the windows bare? Were the doors unguarded? Were the keys on the loose?

Was I the one who needed saving or were you making an excuse to save yourself?

We could’ve gotten through if only you listened but you loved to talk. You always do. But today, your silence kills me.

 - PCY

I saw you and I told myself that I don’t want you to see how much a misery I have turned. I wanted to say something more than a “hello.” I acted like nothing happened so that I could eventually feel like it but, the opposite happened – the more I put it out of sight, the more it finds its way to me; the more you find your way back to me as I find myself that I’m on my way to meet you.

You smiled back, from what I see, you’re a little confused. I see you’re not doing well either. I could see it through you because I know you too well so when I told you that you were being too nice to me, know that it was a stated fact and not a sly opinion.

You walked towards me, I could feel like you’re trying to say something. Extending your arms and slightly opening your mouth but no words came out so I stayed silent – walking with my eyes glued to the ground because this time, you were right beside me and if there’s anyone in this world who I would want to run away from and crash into – it would be you, always you.

 - BBH

2 years ago, we told each other how we felt. 2 weeks ago we did the same but everything went down differently. 2 years ago you told me love me. 2 weeks ago, you told me the same thing but this time, you wanted me to go.

You’re such a paradox, Byun Baekhyun. So I lit another cigarette at the rooftop, I watched its ashes fall down a few spots away from my feet. 2 years ago, I didn’t smoke.

 - PCY

2 weeks ago you tried to save something that wasn’t dying. I wanted you to go not because I didn’t feel the same but because I knew that the feeling isn’t enough for you to stay. When you told me you felt the same 2 years back, I knew it was true but when you said it 2 years after, there was something missing – it isn’t the kiss on the forehead. It was you, Park Chanyeol. You’re losing yourself. I want you to save yourself because you don’t need to save us – as far as I know, we’re still alive.

 - BBH

We walked side by side on our regular pace. We share the same silence – the deafening and disturbing silence between us. We were only a few inches apart but you’re moving miles and miles away and once we reached the end of the hall where our room is located, you looked at me, waved good bye and entered our room. I stood outside almost knocking but I ended up withdrawing, I pressed my forehead a little too hard against the door and whispered, “I still feel the same.”

 - PCY

I entered the room, shutting the door though I have no right because this is your place too. I started counting to 10

1,2,3,4 

If you come in, it means you still feel the same.

5,6,7

If you don’t then I will leave everything at peace, I will move on, I will accept the change.

8, 9 - I walked towards the door, I tried to reach its knob but withdrew – 9 and one half. 

I leaned against the door, the back of my head resting on it. I felt a slight thump – 10.

 - BBH