Words

            I had written Kyuhyun six times in the first three weeks, but my husband had yet to write me once and I was starting to get a little upset about it.  Yes, I knew that Kyuhyun was busy with his album release and solo concerts, but all I wanted was a brief card or note to acknowledge the fact that I was missed and loved.  Was that so much to ask?

            Every other friend of mine that I’d made in my unit was receiving letters from their significant other—if they had one—except for me.  Of course, I told the other soldiers that I was single.  I had to.  I wasn’t entirely sure how they’d act if they knew I was married to a man.  Honestly, most of them probably wouldn’t care, but my superior officers would make life hard for me if they knew the truth.  Or worse, they’d kick me out and I’d have to find a way to explain the dismissal to the public.  No, thank you.  But every time my new friends got special mail and I didn’t, my heart sank. 

            That wasn’t to say I didn’t get plenty of mail.  In fact, the office was a little upset about just how much mail my fans sent.  Bags and bags had come in since my arrival.  I didn’t even have time to read it all.  That would have to wait until after I was done with basic training.  But all the mail from my family and close friends would have the return address of SM Entertainment on it, so mail was separated out for me ahead of time.  Several of my family members had sent mail, my mother, Kyuhyun’s mother, Ahra, and even a couple of other kpop artists (although none of my own members had sent anything).  This made the absence of a letter from my husband all the more hurtful. 

            So, in the middle of my fourth week of training, I collected my mail and walked back to the barracks, flipping through the various letters.  When my eyes stopped at a familiar scrawl in the corner of the envelope.  Cho Kyuhyun.  I accidentally bumped into a post, I was so distracted, and dropped most of the letters on the ground and scurried to pick them up.  I glanced around to make sure no one saw my odd behavior and then rushed back to the barracks, hoping that no one would interrupt me while I read the letter.  There was no private place to read anything there, but most of the others were out at the moment and only a couple other soldiers were in the room. 

            I walked over to my bed and sat down.  I set the pile of mail on the bed and picked up the letter from Kyuhyun, running my finger under the flap to open it.  Then I pulled the letter out and unfolded it, holding it up with shaking hands, and began to read. 

Dearest Ryeonggu—

I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to write.  I started several letters, but I had a hard time putting into words what I wanted to say.  So instead of writing, I thought I’d copy the lyrics from one of the songs off my album, Waiting, Still.  You may suspect the reasons I picked the song, titled Still, once you hear it.  I think of you every time I sing it:

It’s already a new season
The night air has gotten cold
How are you? Are you healthy?
I walked by your house and thought of you again

I should be hurting
But the human heart is so mysterious
Every time I think of you
It hurts but I’m happy

You, who used to quietly look at me
You, who used to listen to my stories
You, who used to smile brightly
I’m leaning on your memories
That I don’t want to lose for a single moment
I’m used to it, just like breathing
Like laying down on an old couch
When I think of you, it’s still so cozy

Suddenly, I get curious
Do you sometimes think of me too?
If you do, what kind of face do you make?
I think about these little things

It would be better to forget you
But the human heart is so strange
Every time I think of you
I get so scared that I’ll really forget you

You, who used to touch me
You, who used to lightly come into my arms
You, who closed your eyes
Every single part of us is hard to throw away
It wraps around me
It’s warm, like a blanket
The cozy times, in those times, us two

Keeping you is always easier than erasing you
I can’t forget you for a single moment
I’m used to it, just like breathing
Every time I trust myself in the loving memories
It’s still so cozy, so cozy that it hurts

Call me as soon as you can.  I love you.

Yours, Kyuhyun

            I wiped the tear that was rolling down mycheek.  Even my husband could still manage to be romantic without meaning to.  “What a dork,” I whispered to myself, sniffling, as I read through the lyrics again in Kyuhyun’s nearly illegible scrawl.  “I’m going to frame this when I get home.”

The Call

            I trudged into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.  After staring at the contents of the fridge for a couple minutes—and it didn’t really warrant that long of a look, since there was almost nothing in there—I grabbed the carton of milk.  I glanced at the expiration date, double checking it was still good so I didn’t make the same mistake I’d almost made a couple weeks ago.  Then I grabbed a bowl and the box of cereal and poured myself a bowl. 

            This had become my new morning routine.  On a really good morning, there were leftovers to ea