Five stages of grief.

Hayi scoffed and tossed the pamphlet back on the desk. She glanced at the wall clock mounted on the motel wall and noted that it was already five in the morning. Any minute now, she told herself, he was going to call. Propping herself on the bed, she waited, gripping her phone between her palm. A part of her hoped it wouldn’t ring, that he wouldn’t call, but it rang. And she answered anyway.

“You didn’t sleep,” the voice on the other end of the line accused her, not as much as a greeting.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “You didn’t sleep either,” she retorted.

The male chuckled. “Yeah, but, I’m me.”

Whatever that meant, Hayi didn’t know. She never did understood Jiwon. There were no explanations for the things he did or said. “Okay,” she decided, because there was no point in asking for an explanation from him.

He breathed out a soft reply, “okay.”

After that, no one said a word. She listened to his breathing, and Jiwon listened to hers. For the past three and a half months, this was their routine. He would call just to check up on her – hearing her voice was enough to know – and she would always answer. Then, they would bask in comfortable silence until the sun rose and Jiwon fell asleep.

. . .

“The shadows under your eyes are getting darker,” Chaerin remarked.

She looked up at the older woman and smiled. “I think it’s an effect from the new mascara that I’m using,” she lied. Even though she knew Chaerin could see through her lies. That she hadn’t been sleeping well in months. That when she did, she would awaken in sweat and gasping for breath. Chaerin always knew. For a while, Hayi looked at her and noticed that she was actually quite beautiful, despite her blonde hair pulled up in a tight bun.

Chaerin sighed and momentarily wrote something on her leather bound notebook. Then she locked eyes with Hayi, concern written all over her face. “Have you spoken to your mother lately?”

Hayi shook her head, her fingers twisting the loose brown thread popping off the cushion on her lap. The room that she visited on a daily basis smelled like lavender, just like it always did when she was in it. She didn’t hate, but she almost never found the scent appealing either. The curtains were pulled together and she couldn’t help but wonder if Dr Lee ever let the sun in her office. Tiny gaps allowed sunlight to poke through the room either way, causing dust motes to swirl in a frenzied dance. Outside, she could hear the tree of a branch knocking on the window pane, a rhythmic beat that almost made her think of Hanbin.

“Hayi,” the older woman interrupted her train of thoughts. “Why haven’t you? She worries about you, you know that right?

She nodded. Hayi knew that and she was sorry to not have been answering her mother’s calls or messages, but she didn’t want to hear her voice. Fearful that she would crack and break down. “Doctor, if it’s alright, I’d like to cut our session short for today. I have some assignments that need attending.”

The doctor was silent, as if trying to determine whether she was lying or not. After which, she nodded understandingly and said, “Alright. But on our next session you’ll need to speak more, Hayi. We’re all very concerned for your well-being.”

With a frantic nod, Hayi agreed and bade the doctor goodbye and walked out the office. Of course, she wasn’t actually going to speak more, because speaking only leads to thinking and thinking only leads to more pain. She didn’t need to feel more pain. There was enough to go around.

. . .

She woke up covered in sweat, gripping the sheets of the motel bed and gasping for air. With a quick jerk, she pulled her body forward and off the bed, landing her feet on the carpeted floor. The smell of detergent and bleach instantaneously attacked her nostrils, an in-between result of pleasantness and unpleasantness from all the scrubbing she did earlier. She had opted to clean instead to take her mind of things rather than get started on her long overdue assignments. Hayi hadn’t noticed it earlier, but her body ached and the bruises on her knees were swelling up. Not that she minded.

She grabbed her mobile phone on the night stand and powered it on. There were several messages from her mother, her shrink and few other friends she hadn’t seen or spoken to in a while. But she ignored all of it, clearing her notifications. Even the ones from Jiwon. Hayi noticed that it was a little after three in the morning, anyway. Two hours and he was bound to ring her.

Wiping the sweat on her brow, she dialled a number. Slowly and impassively, she brought the phone to her ears and listened to it ring a few times. No one answered except voicemail. Hey, it’s Hanbin. Hayi’s probably making me watch soap operas with her, so leave a message after the beep. Beep.

Clutching the phone to her chest, she rocked her body back and fro. Closing her eyes as the urge to scream and cry built inside her. Her heart ached at the sound of his voice and even more so at the need to having him hold her in his arms. With a whimper, she let herself feel the pain and cried. That was the first time in in months.

. . .

“Hey,” Jiwon greeted, his eyes turning into little crescent moons as he smiled.

Surprised, she stared at him. It had been a while since he last visited her in person. He still looked the same: handsome, pale skinned and well-built. Hayi noticed that the only different thing about him were his eyes. They used to be bright and happy, but now empty and sad. She wondered if her eyes projected the same emptiness and sadness.

He chuckled. “You’re doing that thing where you space out,” he informed.

Hayi snapped out of her daydream and smiled apologetically. “Come in,” she whispered.

“The last time we met, you told me you were only staying here for a week.”

She closed the door behind her and shrugged. You know why I haven’t left, she wanted to say but opted for something else. “I know, I’m just having a hard time finding a new place.”

Jiwon turned to her, his eyes locking with his. He eyed her with concern and pity, and she hated it that of all people he would give her that look. She turned away, careful as to not gaze into his eyes again. Taking quick strides towards the mini fridge, she took out a bottled water and tossed it at Jiwon’s direction.

He caught it on time and thanked her. Hayi smiled almost as if saying you’re welcome and beckoned for him to take a seat on any of the available chair while she took a seat on the bed, instead. “What brings you here?”

He pulled up a chair and sat on it, eyeing the motel room meticulously. She couldn’t stay here forever, he hoped. Jiwon smelled the detergent and bleach, almost immediately, he knew she had been scrubbing the room. He also knew that was her way of taking her mind off things. Why he had wanted to ask, why must you hurt yourself like this? “Just thought I’d check up on you. Isn’t that what best friends do?”

Rolling her eyes, Hayi chuckled. “You call, you never just come around to check up on me, Bobby.”

Bobby. He felt a strange pull in his heart, almost as if a string in it had just snapped. After he had tried so hard mending it. Jiwon hadn’t heard that nickname in over a month. Not since… “Hey, don’t make me the bad guy here,” he protested, not wanting to think more regarding the silly nickname.

They laughed for a while. Then, there was a few minutes of silence. It was the comfortable kind of silence. It had always been like that between them.

Jiwon was the first to break the silence, “Hanbin’s mom wants us to come over the day after tomorrow.”

Hayi looked up in surprise. She hadn’t expected that at all. It had been a while since she visited their house, too. Was she ready to see his mother? Besides, how could Hanbin’s mother want her there when she abandoned her in time of grief? “I–”

“I know that it’s asking so much from you, Hayi. You can’t even go back to the apartment and we’re asking you to go, but it would mean so much to Aunt,” Jiwon interjected. He wanted to tell her that it still hurts, too. That sometimes, at night, Hanbin’s ghosts would haunt him. That in the morning, he would hear his best friend’s voice. But Jiwon knew better than to bring it up. They both would heal in time. That was for certain.

She looked up at him desperately. If he knew – no, they knew – then why ask her in the first place? Couldn’t they see how hard these all was for her? But she thought about it, how much harder it was for Hanbin’s mother. How much pain Jiwon had to endure on his own. Hayi had abandoned them all to take care of her own pain. With a slow nod, she agreed to go. Only because she owed Hanbin that much.

. . .

It had been a good fifteen minutes of silence. She was grateful that the good doctor wasn’t pushing her to speak up and even more grateful that she agreed to meet up with Hayi at her request. Chaerin had been more than a doctor to her, she was also a friend.

“Hanbin’s mom wants us to come over tomorrow,” Hayi finally spoke.

She nodded, “and how does that make you feel, Hayi?”

“Afraid.” She didn’t hesitate to say. Afraid was such an understatement. Maybe the word she should’ve used was terrified. Terrified of seeing his mother, of the memories, of the pictures hung all over the walls. She was afraid to open up wounds. All the pain she had been trying her best to keep away all these time.

Chaerin didn’t say anything.

Hayi swallowed. “I don’t want to feel afraid. I don’t want to feel anything anymore.”

“We’re all afraid of something, but sometimes we have to face the things that we fear the most in order to live on.”

. . .

The house was just as she remembered it to be, inside and out. She felt herself slipping through old memories, thinking of Hanbin and his smile. It was all too much to handle, but she pushed forward. Knowing that this was for the best, something Hanbin would’ve wanted. Jiwon placed a hand on the small of her back as if to support her both physically and mentally. She flashed him a small smile and hoped that he could see the thank you in his eyes.

“Hayi,” Hanbin’s mother said softly, as if unable to believe her eyes that she was actually there. Almost immediately, she was pulling Hayi into her arms for a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

Hayi held in her tears and wrapped her arms around the older woman. “I’ve missed you, too.”

. . .

They sat on the couch in the living room. Hayi tried not to think about the times she and Hanbin had sat on it, but it was so difficult not to. Softly, she ran her palm up and down the material of the arm rest and smiled a little. Oh, Hanbin, she thought.

“I’m sorry to have asked you to come all of the sudden, Hayi,” Mrs Kim said, noticing the hurt in the younger woman’s face.

She shook her head and smiled at Mrs Kim. It’s alright, she wanted to say, even when deep inside she wondered if it was. If it would ever be again. Her gaze turned at the framed photo of Hanbin by the fireplace mantle, he was smiling and holding up a trophy. He was so beautiful. Just like his mother, now that she thought more about his beauty. Hanbin would’ve disapproved being called beautiful. The idea sent a bittersweet sensation in her chest again. And it hurt her to think so much of him in one go.

Jiwon added, “But Aunt had some stuff she needed you to see. Stuff she had found in Hanbin’s possessions.”

Hanbin’s mother nodded, taking out a blue envelope from a box that she assumed to be Hanbin’s. The older woman glanced at it for a while, running the tip of her fingers over the handwritten word. Hayi could tell that it was her son’s handwriting. Written in black and cursive, almost like a doctor had written it. Just as he aspired to be. Mrs Kim passed it on to her with a small smile.

Hayi noticed the tears forming in the older woman’s eyes as she took it. She did just as Mrs Kim had done, ran the tip of her fingers on the lettering. He always did have bad writing. Shut up, I have great writing! He would’ve argued, causing small laugh to escape her lips. She hadn’t even noticed it but she was crying. In a swift motion, she wiped her tears with the back of her palm and sniffled. “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“Hayi, it’s okay to cry,” Mrs Kim comforted, squeezing Hayi’s hand. “Cruel boy, my son. Leaving us only with more hurt and letters.”

Jiwon chuckled. “I read mine yesterday,” he started, looking on the floor as if trying to remember the words written on his letter, “That idiot never did know how to say goodbye.”

The letter envelope smelled vaguely like him and Hayi wondered if he had purposely let his scent spill all over it. Of coffee and rich cologne. It had been her fear to return to their apartment for the very same reason. His scent still lingered in that one bedroom apartment. Yet, somehow Hanbin had found a way to chase her even from across the grave. She gently brought the letter to her chest, embracing it. Cherishing it. It’s okay to cry, she heard Mrs Kim's voice again. So she did.

. . .

She sat on her bed, knees pulled up against her body and head throbbing in pain from all the crying she had done earlier. For more than an hour, Hayi stared at the blue envelope. Afraid to read whatever Hanbin had written inside it. Afraid that it would be like opening Pandora’s Box. “You’re so cruel, Hanbin,” she whispered.

Heaving a sigh, she took the letter and tucked it under her pillow. She had had enough crying and feeling an excessive amount of pain for one day. Tomorrow, maybe.

Hayi got out of bed and decided to scrub the toilet again.

. . .

“Mrs Kim told me about the letters,” Dr Lee inquired.

Hayi nodded. The room smelled different today, she noted. Lavender didn’t linger around her office; instead, it smelled of cigarette and men’s cologne. She eyed Chaerin for a moment and wondered if prior to her session there was another patient. But she didn’t see anyone come out before she entered. “Do you have a boyfriend?” She found herself asking.

Chaerin was taken aback with the question. It was a personal one, yet, she entertained it. Hayi was different to her, and more broken than she had ever seen a young woman. A small smile graced her lips, “What gave it away?”

“The room doesn’t smell like lavender. It usually does,” she remarked.

The doctor chuckled. “You have a very keen sense of smell.”

Hayi chuckled. “He must love you a lot. To come visit you at work.”

Silence.

“Hanbin used to visit me when I was working part-time at the café. Most of the girls there swooned over him. I didn’t blame them because he was always such a handsome young fella.”

Chaerin crossed her legs, eagerly listening on. She observed the younger woman, as usual twisting the loose thread on the cushion that came along with her couch. There was a certain sadness in the tone of her voice as she thought of her and Hanbin’s time together. When Chaerin signed up to be a doctor, she knew that helping her patients cope would be difficult. That was one of the reason she detached herself from them most of the time. But Hayi had been so kind, so respectful, that she had somehow regarded her as a younger sister. It hurt her to see and hear the pain coming from the Hayi.

“But I have never thought of him to be so cruel. Did he leave me that letter to haunt me for the rest of my life?”

Chaerin sighed. “Have you read it?”

She shook her head.

“Do you want to read it here? Together?”

Hayi thought about it. She had told herself that she would read it today. Yet, she thought about putting it off as long as she could. Memories of Hanbin was already haunting her, did she really need another? “I’m afraid.”

“We’re all afraid of something, but sometimes we have to face the things that we fear the most in order to live on, remember?”

Nodding, Hayi fished for the envelope in her handbag. She had brought it along just in case she felt the need to read it. Anytime, anywhere. Besides, it felt almost as if having Hanbin around with her. Swiftly, she pulled it out of her bag and tore it open. Inside, she pulled out the letter he had written for her. It smelled even more like him, she noted.

She held the letter delicately, afraid that if she rushed into unfolding it, the letter would burn or disappear. When she had fully unfolded it, slowly but all at once, she read it.

Hi my beautiful,

I know that leaving this letter is a cruel thing to do because you must be going through so much already. But I just wanted to just say something to you before we officially let go. It’s not much and it probably won’t help, but I wanted you to know how very sorry I am. I wanted you to know that I never meant to leave you or hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted. But there are some things we can’t prevent from happening. Mine just happens to be dying and leaving you all behind.

Do you remember that time we were in high school and Baek Sumin was our classmate? I know that this sounds irrelevant right now but bear with me, okay. Anyway, she was reading that one book remember? I can’t remember the title now, but she had said a line to you. Right about the time your dad passed away and you were spacing out in class (more than your usual spacing out). Do you remember that line?

“Zendagi Migzara,” Hayi whispered.

Zendagi Migzara: life goes on. You went about the whole year screaming that to Bobby and I. We didn’t mind because we knew that was how you coped. Then when my grandfather died, that was the same line you told me to live up to. And I did. Life goes on, Hayi. Even after the ones we love are no longer with us physically, they live forever in our hearts.

Just as I live in yours, forever.

Stop living in your shell. Live the life you were meant to live. Change lives. You were meant for greatness, don’t you remember me telling that to you? Please don’t shut the world out. It’s not the end of your story, yet. Feel, cry, get angry, but never shut it out. Don’t even say you’re not shutting it out. You’re my woman, Lee Hayi, I know you.

We never asked for this, I know. You didn’t ask for it. I sure as hell didn’t because let’s be honest, I’d rather spend an eternity with you than without you. But some things are inevitable, my love. We had a good run. We made memories. Beautiful memories. And I will cherish those memories – our love – even when I’m somewhere else. Besides, in another life, we’ll make more. Our love doesn’t just end here. Our love is epic, overcoming space and time. Our love is never ending.

For now, Hayi. Life goes on. For now, Zendagi Migzara. Scream it for me baby, just as you did before. Live by it.

I love you.

. . .

The sound of her phone ringing woke her up. With a groan, she turned to her side and reached for her mobile phone on the nightstand. The digital clock indicated that it was five in the morning, Bobby was calling. She almost laughed before answering.

“Do you ever sleep?”

Jiwon laughed. “Were you asleep?”

“Mhm. Did you just get up to call me?”

“Good. Of course not. The hospital assigned me at the Emergency Room, so, no sleep for this poor soul.”

Hayi could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice. She wondered momentarily how he was genuinely doing. She had wanted to ask, – do you still feel Hanbin’s ghost at night or do you have nightmares, still? –but settled for waiting to hear it from Bobby instead.  “Get some sleep from time to time, okay?”

Jiwon assured her that he would, and that he would stop over her apartment when he found the time.

She had told him how great that sounded. It had been quite a while since they last saw each other. “Ring me at a less ungodly hour next time, please?” Then, she bade her best friend goodbye.

She rolled on Hanbin’s side of the bed. Hayi had decided to move back into their apartment. And even managed to pack most of his belongings. Slowly, she was starting to move forward. It would take a while and she knew the pain would always be there, but she would try. Not for Hanbin, but for herself. She would try to do that with all that she had, because life had to go on. No matter what.

Sorry I took forever updating this, wifi was down and I was busy enjoying my vacation. Hehe.

{-Sia