e t h e (r e a l)

Her POV

I didn’t believe in love. And by this, I didn’t try to become someone out of the bunch, or simply edgy by the means of it. Naturally, for me, it was nothing more than a mere concept created by weak humans, who meant to explain the terrible feeling that signified not having someone, a significant other, needing and providing the attention we so often seem to be lacking off.          I just didn’t understand —or maybe I just didn’t want to understand, why people depended so much on other people to be happy, as if their happiness couldn’t consist on their very own achievement more than on what others could provide them. As an emotion, it was beyond me, bigger than what I could ever be and over what I could grasp as what it truly meant more than what I read on books or simply heard from others. I craved it, even if I didn’t accept it, just to finally understand what the whole ordeal of love was, that everyone talked about, but the universe just decided it wasn’t for me.

Love was a sentiment that was denied for people like me, those without an idea that it required infatuation and commitment, blood, sweat and tears —I didn’t seem to be ready for that, not entirely capable of having it for my own self, much less for someone else. I gave up, eventually, accepting my faith as part of the rare souls that were meant to be alone, walking a path of thorns on their own, but more than aware they had brought this on themselves, dying slowly at the sight of what they would never have. And then, one, one self, one person finally made a way past my barriers, destroying them all and leaving me raw for the world to see; but, it seemed as if the world had already seen me, the real me, for him to be the center of my universe and the stitches on my broken heart.

As his eyes, once brighter than the sun, stars and moon all together, stared back at me, I could finally see that something had switched inside them, leaving behind nothing more than faint dark orbs covered by fog.  The light had dimmed, just like mine did long ago. They were tired —exhausted even—, as if he had not only stopped sleeping but as if he were just done fighting, giving up all at once. He didn’t smile, not anymore, and neither did I. He was lost, and I didn’t know what to do, because I deeply knew that I couldn’t help him if I didn’t have an answer for myself either, or I wouldn’t be able to find it with him gone. Once I had lost it all, I started to dream what could have been instead of what had  been, and, for so long, those expectations felt so vivid, so clear to me that it was the right thing —with his strong arms around me, holding me to never let me go. His laugh resonating everywhere like the most beautiful song, and his warmth keeping it all together. It was so real and once I woke up, it ripped me apart knowing it wasn’t much more than that, a dream. And in the end, it all came down to me finding him like this after so long, after thinking I was the only one aching, the only one suffering and that pained me even more.

I could see how his tears had dried up, leaving nothing but pure sadness in the reflections of his eyes. On his lips the blood had painted rifts like a canvas, and I wanted nothing more than to have a brush and erase them. His strong hands were not strong anymore, almost shaking as they held mine, nails almost too painful to watch and veins more prominent than ever. He was aching so much that it put my pain somewhere else,  because it made me think that what he was going through, that agony that kept swallowing him whole, was, indeed, meant to be mine —yet, I had been the one who had brought all this conflict, all this war that developed inside, to him; not the other way.

We didn’t talk —we didn’t need to. We just stared at each other for what felt an eternity, and it was not even close to a metaphor but more as if the world had just stopped it’s ways to give us the chance to speak our minds, continuedly staring at us like a soap opera that seemed to have no end. The eyes I once thought were made by the sky itself, filled with tiny stars, stared at me back like I held every answer in the world, even though it was a lie. I no longer knew what I wanted, what I needed, and time passed us by but we didn’t move, we just stood there, staring and trying to find the correct words to break that spell we put on ourselves, but they just didn’t come out. We were inside some sort of limbo, with only the two of us floating, holding each other with bare hands. He had showed up in my world when I needed him the most, and  I was just so used to us, so used to him that I wasn’t aware that he would leave one day, I would make him leave like I always did… and I was just so tired to be alone.

I was waiting for a burning passion that consumed me, and I got it. I didn’t want to accept it, and I was so against it that it torn me apart just to deny it. Feelings were difficult for me to understand, never grasping their simplest forms and the branches that sorted out of each; but when I finally understood that I loved him, I too understood I would never love the way he loved me —not in this lifetime. It wasn’t about the big things, but more just on the small things that no one would notice unless they checked them one by one. Details, invisible for everyone else but me, because I knew they were there, ready to be appreciated like fine art on a museum. Because he was art, and I was just addicted to it. Merely a fan of the piece he was, I knew for a fact that he needed care to bloom like a flower, and that was what I was ready to give him, in order to make up for what I was missing.

I fell for him, but I wasn’t even aware I had fallen so hard until it hit me that I needed him in a way greater than myself. And it didn’t mean I couldn’t live without him, I was just more than enough by myself, but it just meant I didn’t want to do it. I wanted him there, beside me, at every second. I wanted his warm hands to caress every inch of my body as if I were a rose petal. I wanted his laugh to fill my ears like music and his smile to flash me every time we locked eyes. The way small wrinkles formed beside his eyes when he smiled to big, or how he slightly held his stomach every time he laughed just a little bit too hard just made me crazy.

I was broken, and he brought me back together. He searched for every piece and put them where they belonged without major effort, because he knew he was all I needed. He never pressured me, neither did anything I wasn’t ready to take but we both knew we loved each other from the very first second. It was a love so big that it hurt me, it hurt us, but we loved the pain. I was so ready to take the world by a storm, fight whatever obstruction there might be against us, until I discovered that it will be me who broke us apart. Even though that I needed a break from everyone, I didn’t need it from him —I needed him all the time, but I forgot to let him know that. When we were together, it felt as if I would never be sad again, but now it looked like everything I did, or kept doing, was lying to myself.

“What’s wrong?” He finally said, and somehow, the air I felt was missing suddenly filled my lungs once again. His voice, deep enough to bring me down on my knees, finally hit my ears, sending a wave of that peace I hadn’t felt in so long it was almost a new feeling to me.

I shook my head, not sure if I could pronounce a word —not without crying at least. His hand rose slowly, while he nodded as if asking for my permission, to caress my cheek softly —I closed my eyes, savoring every second as if it were the last.

“I know you are lying, because I know you so well I could remind you who you are if you ever forget it.” He continued, shooting an invisible arrow on my heart.

“I know.” His warm hand left my cheek, letting the cold air hit it, leaving me craving for more. He ran it down his face then, scoffing loudly with a plain expression, whilst a frown formed in between his eyebrows.

“You know it all don’t you?”

“I didn’t know you would take a piece of me with you once you left,” I finally said. “—but you did and now I’m an uncomplete puzzle. Forgotten, and no longer wanted.” I debated, looking down, almost too tired to keep my gaze up.

“I didn’t know—” I said, “that there was no greater pain, no bigger suffering, than loving you. That the rain would never stop pouring, the loneliness would never leave me alone and the parts would never get back together. I don’t know shit, not when it comes to broken hearts, not when it comes to… you.”

He smiled, and even though it was small, I knew it was ironic. He knew me better than anyone, but I didn’t know him at all.

“Once you left,” he interrupted, “I thought I would be okay. I pretended to be okay, but it was nothing more than pure bullshit. It was 2 in the morning and I started aching, the cold reached the deepest part of my bones, the ghost of you simply floating around as I thought of everything and nothing. I missed your smile, your touch, your warmth, your essence. I missed you, but you weren’t there.”

“You never asked me to stay.”

“Because those things shouldn’t be asked for! Not if you never wanted to leave.”

I stayed still, almost too still. “D-Do you think I didn’t want to stay? That leaving you didn’t mean ripping a piece of my heart out just to make sure you knew I loved you more than life itself? The love I saved just for you was so overwhelming I didn’t know what to do. I tried so hard to give it all for you, but I understood it was not right. It was not you; it was not me; the timing was just not right. You deserved it all, but I could not deliver, because I did not have it. I wasn’t complete, and I thought that I had to leave to find what I was missing, but I then understood that what I was missing, was you.”

“You always had me! From the very first second, I was all yours, ready to give up the world if it meant I would deliver it to you.” He protested.

“I didn’t have you, not completely. And you know why? Because I was not aware that to have a hold on that part of you, the one you were so ready to give me, I needed to hold me too. And that is when I knew, I had to let go.” Sound had suddenly made an apparition and it kept buzzing in my ears like a million bees. My chest was aching, as I slowly lost every inch of air inside of it, and my cheeks were burning. The tips of my fingers itched, I wanted to touch him, to feel him once again and see if the missing part of me would get back in place. It seemed as if I were dehydrated and he were the last glass of water in the world —because that is what I pictured him like. Everything I needed and that I was lacking off.

“I did ask you to stay…” He murmured back. “The day you left. I poured my heart out for you, but that didn’t seem enough.”

I shook my head in a rapid manner. “Don’t say that again. I’m begging you.”

“What do you want me to say, then?”

“I need you to understand me, more than to say anything. Loving you has been the hardest thing I have ever done, yet I did it anyways. Your heart pouring so much just for me put me in outer space. How could I go on knowing someone loves me just as much as I love them, but that, somehow, it was not enough?” The tears had just started to form in my eyes at this point.

“It was enough for me!” Even though he never screamed, his voice did rise, and that is when I knew, I had done more damage to him than the one I had done to myself.

“But it was not enough for me, Jungkook! There are things that I did not tell you, even though when I acted as if our love would be eternal. I lied to myself and lied to you.” My hands could not stop shaking, no matter what I did to stop them.

“You know…” He laughed softly. “When I met you, I promised myself I would love you even when you did not deserve it, because that would mean that it was when you more needed it. That the things you whispered to me when you were drunk were the things you wouldn’t say sober but that carved in the deepest part of you heart, and that I knew you felt —you just were too scared to say them to me.”

His hands reached for mine once again, holding them with strength enough to let me know he was there, but with softness at the same time, just like everything he did when we were together. The big clothes, dark themes and rows of earrings that covered his ears meant nothing, because, when it came to him, he had the purest soul ever spawned on earth. He almost convinced me that, somehow, he was the blessing and the punishment the universe had put in my way as sign that love was something else than that mere concept.  

The day I left him, I believe a part of my soul stayed behind, because there was no me without him. He had become such an important part of me that not having him meant I was no longer myself, no longer whole. I kept wondering, even then, when was the last time I had fell in love. When was the last time I had felt like the air had been pulled out of my lungs every time I had someone as close, or simply, when was the last time that the warmth in my heart grew just as much as I had done every time he simply looked my way. It was not the material things, more than those I could not grasp with both my hands but, some way, I did feel I could. I left him because I needed him to live the life I couldn’t give him; and for myself, because I needed to understand what I could actually give him before offering him a piece of me that not even I owned.

                                        _____________________

                                              A year earlier

          It was 5 in the morning, and I could not sleep.

Hours had passed by, leaving me with silence and darkness as I immersed in all those thoughts that filled up my head every time it hit the pillow. They were recurrent thoughts, preoccupations and things that did not fit in my head throughout the day, that decided to make an apparition once I was ready to rest. It had been an exhausting day, with my whole attention put up in the finishing details for the final projects that were due next week, a pretty exact reason of why I should be more than asleep; yet, they didn’t let me. No matter how much I pushed them away, they kept coming my way, and I had no other option more than let them be.

The warmth in the bed kept me comfortable, as I snuggled closer to it, sighing loudly enough for me to hear but not to wake him up. His, now, dark brown hair rested scattered in the pillow, signs of his constant movement during the night and his soft snores echoed in the silence of the room, his plump lips pouting every time he closed his mouth. One of his long-fingered hands rested on the top of his uncovered chest and the other rested under my head, thing he used to do as a way to make sure I didn’t leave his side during the night —not as if he would notice anyway, since he slept like a log and wouldn’t even feel an earthquake if it happened. His broad chest moved slowly, as he breathed in and out at a pace, and his dark eyebrows frowned lightly at whatever he was dreaming at the time. I stayed there, silent, staring at him like the most fascinating piece of work I had ever laid my eyes one, knowing well that if someone ever asked me what was one of my favorite activities to do, I would immediately say it’s the times I get to see him like this, asleep and beside me, nothing making that pretty head of his stress, and finally see him resting.

My hand unconsciously rose, the tips of my fingers caressing the softness of his cheek and the borders of his lips, still deep in thought, until the hand that rested on top of his chest startled me as it stopped me by the wrist and brought the back of my hand to his lips, for him to place a slight kiss on top of it. I relaxed promptly, resting my cheek on his arm again, as he kept pressing soft kisses on my fingertips, until he stood up after a while, still without a word, and went to the bathroom —where I could hear water running and his toothbrush moving, cue for me to stand up and go brush my teeth as well. My yellow toothbrush laid alone in the vase, a still sleepy Jungkook stared at his reflection in the mirror, smirking slightly at the nest I called hair. We both remained in silence, enjoying each other’s company as we erased the traces of sleep from our faces, and made a straight line to lay in the bed again once we were done. I made a “plomp” sound as threw myself on it, while Jungkook chuckled softly, making a place for himself on the bed, pulling me to his side with ease.

“That thing of yours of staring at me while I sleep is starting to become creepy, you know?” He muttered, half joking, as he tickled my sides, making me instantly scream, trying to escape his grip, but failing miserably. All I could hear was my constant begging and whining, as he openly laughed at my disgrace. I ran out of breath after a while, and he peppered kisses all over my face to make up for it, my face turning red, flustered as a result of all the attention he gave me.  

“I do not stare at you while you sleep”, I said, half-seriously, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling instead, with his soft fingers playing with the tips of my hair. He made a muffled sound, readjusting himself to look at my face from the side, and hoop one leg to my hip with a swift move, locking me to the mattress.

“You sure don’t. You burn holes in face while I sleep, actually.” I opened my mouth to protest, but his arms were quickly placed in each side of my face, as he positioned himself on top of me comfortably. His warmth breath hit my face, as his long lashes fluttered softly. His bright eyes stared at me with such fondness, that I stayed there, silent, as they scanned every bit of my face —somehow making sure he wasn’t imagining it all. My fingers, almost by mind of their own, rose to caress his face, tracing every centimeter of it —nose, apple cheeks, plump lips, strong chin and even the faint scar that seemed to be only imperfection in his face, yet, to me, made him even more precious. He sighed, almost too low for me to hear, inclining his face to my resting palm that had found a place on his right cheek.

I smiled, unconsciously, at the sight in front of me, with my heart beating a hundred miles per hour, and such warmth inside of it, it was almost unreal. I felt comfort and peace in a way I hadn’t felt in such a long time, and somehow, I wondered if this was what home should feel like.  I hadn’t had something like this ever in my life, far away from others who had decided I was good enough to make a fool of, pouring no corresponded feelings towards someone who only saw me as a play toy. He anchored me to a haven that I didn’t know existed, a place I belonged to and that wanted me there, no matter what I did or decided not to do in order to gain a place to stay.

Jungkook sang in a low tone, kissing my palm with feathery touches, as he continued to hum a song that apparently was not of my knowledge. He moved from my hand to the inside of my arm, my shoulder, jaw, cheek, corner of my mouth and, after what felt like years, my lips. The pressure he placed on the kiss was not much, making it feel as if it was a caress more than a proper kiss. He seemed to be taking his time, exploring how it felt like, how I reacted to it, more than hurrying to what I wanted. Every touch felt like torture to me, since I wanted more than what he was actually giving me, and, as I smirked to myself, my body rose suddenly to finally connect his lips with mine in a swift move.

He stood still for a second, taken by surprise by my sudden outburst, but once my fingers tickled the base of his neck, Jungkook relaxed, resting his chest against mine as he lifted his weight slightly with the arms that had placed themselves on each side of my face. I sighed softly, content, as his plump lips kissed me with passion enough to leave me seeing stars, with a longing need that none of us expected, but that still let me know he was enjoying it as much as I was, if not even more. Every time he kissed me, I could feel my body quivering, just as his fingers traced the outline of my face, brushing off the rebel strings of hair that escaped the bun in the back of my head. After a while, the intensity that had purely taken over the ministration session, was replaced by lazy, touchy kisses —as his hands had decided to freely dance over exposed skin of my body—, going from breath taking kisses to longing pecks, as his plump lips outlined the curves of my puckered ones.

Jungkook’s mouth, that someway had explored every part of mine, trailed over my jaw, leaving space enough for me to breathe, just to make up for the lost of breath I’d just gone through. I could feel his smile when a shiver ran down my spine as his playful fingers made a path over it, his long lashes tickling the skin they had contact with, and his nose caressing the softest part of my neck. My hands rose to the back of his neck, where the shortest hairs were still growing from his last undercut, both my thumbs fondling the sides of his face. After what felt too little, but that I knew had been a while, his face rose, his shinning eyes making contact with mine as he ran his tongue over his lips; while my hands kept doing their thing, soothing the corners of his mouth, soft fingers gliding over the tender-glossy lips that towered over me.

“I love—”, Jungkook started, but I interrupted him with my finger over his lips.

“Thank you.”

He frowned slightly, kissing the pad of my finger in the process. I positioned my hand over his chest, feeling the beat of his heart loud and clear, just as if it were my own. And maybe, just maybe, it was. I wanted to believe his heart and mine beat at the same rhythm, because his heart belonged to me and vice-versa. After all this time, I felt like I belonged somewhere, to someone, that it wasn’t so bad as I had thought before. I needed him more than he needed me, I also knew that, but feeling needed made me happy in some sort of weird way, as if I now had a purpose that I didn’t before —something to actually look for and fight for other than myself.

“For what?”

I smiled, the tiniest of the smiles, but it was there. Nonchalant, and only for him. “For loving me the way you do.” Jungkook’s eyes widened with understanding, as his features softened more —if that was even possible.

“When I fell in love with you, I felt genuinely scared for the first time in my life.” He confessed, with a small chuckle.

“Were you scared of me, big boy?” I told him, playfully. He bit the tip of my finger in return.

“I was more scared for your soul, actually.”

“My soul?”

“Even though I am no expert, I did see something when I met you. A tortured soul, not quite forgotten nor forgiven for whatever sins it might have committed in a past life, wandering through earth inside its own tormented bubble. I thought I could save you, save whatever remnants of it that lasted, but what I didn’t expect was for you to save me.” I stared at him blankly, as a cloud of thoughts invaded my mind, but the words couldn’t to make a way out.

For a moment, I pictured myself in a white room with nothing more than him in front of me. Still —frozen even, leaving place for me to see him, properly this time. Sometimes I wondered that if when God had put his hand on him, he had purposely set a piece of the universe in each of his eyes, just for me to see; just for me to appreciate. I profoundly believed he was the most precious piece of art ever created, molded in marble by divine matters, with the greatest possible care, as it took its sweet time to carve every detail like it was the last. From the sharp jawline that lead to rosy plump lips, chiseled with a deep cupid bow, only to be surpassed by a rounded nose and dark eyes. His milky skin looked tanned during summer, making it seem more like honey than it did in winter, where he was all rosy cheeks and glossy lips. The softness of his neck traced a path down his keen collarbones, broad shoulders, strong arms —that were freshly tattooed, and last but not least to his husky hands, with pumping veins and soft touches that he reserved just for me.

I gulped in deep. “I knew I loved you from the first time I set my eyes on you. I loved your eyes, your smiles, and the way your kisses carved a map in the sculpture of my body. I fell in love with your feelings, your presence and for the person that lives inside of you that you don’t even know it exists. I loved you from the moment I met you because you made me feel alive, like no one else did or ever could. In the end, I fell in love with the way you made live again, or even, like I had never done before. And that is why, I thank you. For loving me like you do.”

  All I could hear was his soft breaths along with my frenzied ones, not even the buzz in my ears or the rapid beat of my heart. And when he leaned again, in order to breath me in as he kissed me, something struck me in the darkest part of my heart —a ghost that greeted me like an old friend, no matter how much I begged it to go away. It was like a little thorn, nearly too small for me to feel, but that managed to hold a weight on my chest like a burden. It was a stir I knew well, that only took place in my life only when I was feeling comfortable enough to forget it even existed. It was a sentiment that gave me nothing more than uneasiness, because, every time it came back, it only left destruction and despair behind it. I did not want it, I never asked for it, but we don’t get what we want all the time, do we?  

                                               _____________________

                                                            […]

His POV

  It was a Saturday afternoon, the darkness of the sky revealed it was just about to rain, as waves of humidity hit the air and the wind blew strong and smooth. People rushed on the wet streets, trying to avoid the lose drops of water than fell from the clouds, and making sure to be wherever they needed to be before the merciless rain went loose. I sniffed soundly, feeling the coldness of the air sting on my arms, bristling my hair and sending goosebumps down my spine. I fastened the pace, a few blocks away from the apartment, pulling the backpack even closer to my body. The headphones on my ears played a ballad as I walked, distracting my thoughts and accompanying me until I reached the stairs of the building, avoiding the lift that seemed so tempting.

  By the time I reached my floor, I was slightly panting, loss of breath and with hot legs. The keys dangled in my fingers, ringing as they hit one another while I tried to open the door with shaky hands. The characteristic smell of burnt bread hit me when I opened the door, hearing several things fall of their designated places and hushed curses following them. I scanned the place, slightly confused, until my eyes crashed with a pile of suitcases waiting patiently beside the door and the sight of a figure rushing from one room to another while her arms carried things. My very own backpack fell of my grip, seeing her packing all her things and leaving no trace behind her in the now lonely room. She stopped mid walk at the picture of me, looking like a deer caught in headlights, but maintaining a firm grip on her feet.

  Her hair was tied in a messed-up bun, tears dried up in the middle of her cheeks and blue circles danced under her eyes as she tiredly made sure everything was on sight. She was wearing one old shirt I had given her, and her cracked lips bled from biting them too much. I tried to make up words in my mind, stumbling mumbles began to fall of my lips instead. All we could both do was stare at each other, silently. I did know what was happening, but I didn’t seem to understand the reason why it was happening. I was left in an endless maze, unsure of which way to go, and finding myself obstructed by dead ends every time.

  When I found her in the middle of the street, searching for what seemed like her entire life inside the river, I wondered if there was a way to put together the broken pieces of a person just as easily as one can put together a mug that had accidentally fallen from the countertop. Lost, then, would be the only word to properly describe her. A soul that had lost its path; a sinner for that matter, that had given up on life after so long that it no longer remembered what it was there on the first place. It looked for a reason to keep pushing, even then, to give a meaning for its own existence, but it was so terrified, so afraid of what the outside world actually meant, that it couldn’t fully acknowledge itself as part of a greater creation, of something bigger than itself.

  From that very first moment, I understood that something had moved inside of me that I couldn’t precisely explain with words, but that I knew it had happened. As if a string that hung alone, low, had been taken by one of the ends, pulled slightly, just to knot it tightly with another ripped string, finally connecting two long forgotten pieces in one swift gesture. I took as my very responsibility to collect every piece of the puzzle that she was and place it where it belonged; no matter how long it took me or if I missed a piece. I was willing to rip a part of my own puzzle and carve it until it fitted the empty spot, because for me, she was way more important than anything else. I wasn’t a fool, nor a delusional, since I was more than aware that everlasting love stories were nothing but a child’s tale, where was left in end were the memories and moments shared together, longing and setting themselves in space and time; history, for that matter. I wasn’t looking for something that lasted forever, an eternity  if it will, but something that made me feel as if I was one more piece out of the vast universe, a star that shone so brightly it overtook the other stars as if they were nothing more than insignificant glitter dust. I wanted to feel part of time, like I could control it and shape however I wanted, even when I knew that was not true, but —that whoever held my heart, held it so tight it made me feel like so. I could see in her the best and the worst part of myself, and even if she didn’t let me, I wouldn’t give up. I wouldn’t give her up, not ever, no matter what happened or tried to come through us.

  And I kept my promise. I loved her, and kept loving her through thick and thin, holding her tightly in between my arms as if she were a part of me, an extension of my actual body —because that’s what she was. An extension of me that I didn’t recognize was absent, like a spirit, but that once it had placed where it belonged made the hole inside my chest feel a lot bearable, almost nonexistent. She relieved the ache that had set inside my chest from so long ago, replacing it with such a lighter sensation, like feathers and air filling the hollowness of my lungs. She was a little secret to me, my own secured treasure, almost to precious for the world to see but not for me. Her presence gave me such peace, that I felt— no, scratch that— I knew  I could do anything and everything with her by my side; and that’s what made me long for her even more, the way she made me feel indestructible, all powerful.

  I gasped for air but tried to remain calm at the sight.  “For the last time, I want to be sure that you are aware of what you’re doing.”

  The dark parts of her mind had taken over, leaving her in such a dark place I wasn’t sure if I would be able to reach for her once more. I always knew that her mind was stronger than her heart —and I didn’t mean by this she was weak, if not, she was possibly the strongest person I’d ever met; swallowing it all like a dark hole in the middle of space, passing through and not minding what, or who, it took as it did so. Those voices, well known monsters, had made an apparition once again, talking sweetly in her ear with their sharp fangs unfolded, and wicked smiles in their features as they whispered empty promises to her. They managed how she talked, how she thought and even how she moved, because they left no choice; it was either them or her, and she wasn’t ready to give up the rest of her scrapped soul. Her past haunted her, following her closely and taking a chance every time it could to make a presence in her life, to remind her who she was and which sins she dragged along with her. At some sort, I understood that no matter how much love I could pour for her, it would never be enough if she didn’t let go the ghosts of her past and accepted that no matter what shape she came in, I would always take her as a part of me.

 She nodded, not looking at me in the eye.

 “If that’s so, are you also aware of what you’re doing to me? Of how much it aches? Of how my heart pains me so much it’s almost unbearable. I want to be sure that just now, you do understand that it feels as if you are pulling my beating heart out of my chest slowly, enjoying my pain, enjoying my suffering.”

  She stood there, watching me silently with tired eyes and no expression whatsoever. She didn’t seem to be following, but I couldn’t stop. I needed her to know, at least one last time, so I pulled strength enough and continued.

 “What is it? Tell me. Is that you don’t get it? Or is it that you don’t want to understand? Please tell me, I beg you, because I can’t keep this guessing game any longer.”

 “I’ve tried, Jungkook. I’ve tried for so long, but I don’t know what’s there to save of me anymore. I don’t know what’s left there to say, I’ve said it all.” Her shaking hand ran through her messed up here, pulling nots with her delicate fingers, and yet, she looked as beautiful as ever. Just like the first time I met her, just like the first time I saw her. I lost my breath, just like I did now.

 “I love you.” I said, no longer keeping it to myself. “I love every single piece of you, and I can’t choose a single thing I don’t worship about you.  I love you so fucking much it hurts me; but I can’t seem to stop loving you. I have tried, at least try to believe that. I have tried so hard it almost killed me; but in the end it was all for nothing, because there you were again, taking my heart in your delicate hands and holding it prisoner.”

  Her eyes closed, as she interrupted me with strong words, yet a shaky voice. “I have tried to get rid of you, of your voice, your smell, and the single image of you. But my mind doesn’t seem to comprehend that I need to forget you in order to collect the broken pieces of me, and that kills me every day. I can’t stop hurting, and I can’t seem to make it stop. I need to make it stop, please.”

  As the tears had begun to stream down my face, I understood why everyone was so afraid of falling in love. It made sense, I said to myself, how the simple thought of someone holding your heart, your soul, in their bare hands was so scary because they could let it fall at any given moment, and the fall would be so sudden, that it could be fatal.

  “It stings.  Seeing you, and not being able to even breathe when you are not there. It is as if my lungs just stop working without you and, continue their routine when I have you with me. It is as if you were the stability in my feet, the ease in my mind, the calm in my soul and the engine that keeps my heart beating. I need you the way I need air to breathe and food to eat. I need you, to stay alive. And believe once and for all when I tell you that loving you is easy. It so easy that it’s possibly the easiest thing I have done —after falling for you, so that is. It was like being hit by a truck, and once I understood that I longed for you, everything moved on stop motion and you were the only thing I could see, the only thing I could think about, and the only thing that mattered. Because you’re the only thing that matters to me.”

  My legs were shaking, like two tubes of jelly, and as I fell on my knees, I could also feel my heart sinking, like a dropping sandbag on a theater. My voice sounded muffled, in consequence that I felt balls of cotton going down my throat. “It was pieces of you what carved deep in me. It is the way you smile, how your full lips curve, followed by the tip of your tongue hitting your front teeth. It is the way you touch me, delicately at first like a fine piece of glass, and then caress me like my skin is made of velvet. It is the way you kiss me, as if I am water in a hot desert and you couldn’t get enough of me, savoring every inch of it. How you make me feel when I am with you, as if I am the only person in your life and the only sun in your universe. It’s you, only you, and I will forever be you; no matter what happens from today.

  My body is no longer mine; it belongs to you. All of me belongs to you because you are it for me. There is not, and there will never be someone who feels for you the way I do, and I need you to know that.”

 We just stayed there, staring at each other as I felt my lungs about to burst from how hard I was breathing through my nose. I couldn’t breathe, seconds away from crumbling, but I couldn’t let her see me like this. She was aware of how bad she was hurting me, as if ripping my heart away and throwing it like an used bag wasn’t enough; but at the same time, I wasn’t so sure if she knew how much damage she was causing herself too. The tips of my fingers itched as if a million ants ran by them, and my face burned like fire; but I didn’t move. Even though I could always read her, today it seemed as if she was a safe with an extra padlock, with a code I wasn’t told about and a strong sense of curiosity that crawled from my insides.

 Her eyes, once bright as a diamond, were a dark ocean of emotions, filled with pain, and I wondered if mine look just like her did in the moment. Was she also in pain or was she putting a show once more? Her feet seemed to come alive, as she slowly came closer and reached me carefully, her soft hand caressing my cheek like the softest silk. In this position, my eyes were directed to her belly button, obliging me to lift my chin in order to stare her in the eye. I could feel my eyes flutter, feeling air entering my lungs just for a second and my heart running a thousand miles per hour, but I restrained myself, keeping in mind how I never understood the way someone could have such an impact on someone else, yet, she always proved me wrong.

“I love you so much that I need to let you go.” She finally whispered, running both hands on my face.

“You won’t understand now,” she continued, “but one day, you’ll thank me for the pain I’m causing you now in order to provide the happiness you deserve tomorrow.”

Her lips, that caused a disaster inside of me every time they merely brushed a part of me, landed on mine for one last time. Her kiss wasn’t pressured nor was rushed, instead making sure to touch every inch of my lips leaving a memory for me to treasure for as long as time let me. Her kisses meant to me those words she couldn’t speak yet I knew she held close to her hearth like a whole book filled to the rim with thoughts and feelings. They gave me air, a will to live and the energy I was missing to keep pushing through, and the mere thought of them not being there anymore, was tearing me apart too. I kissed her back like my life depended on it, pushing my lips on top of hers and praying to the universe she got my message back. That she understood that I loved her more than anyone has ever loved before, and that nothing would make me change that, because she remained as my one and only.

          She abandoned the apartment shortly after and, along with that, my heart. Her things were no longer beside mine, there was no more two of everything, no more warmth beside me and no more sound and life inside the place. It seemed like an empty shell that I used to call ours, where we shared so many memories it almost was too intimate for me, as if I were no longer the person inside those memories but a mere viewer in a movie theater.

The moments we shared, with her cupping her tummy in excruciating pain for laughing too much, tears dropping out from the corners of her eyes, as her reddened cheeks stretched in wide smiles she didn’t share often with people. Star gazing nights, with our backs laid on the top of my cars warm hood, while the conversations went on easily, with both of us speaking words into existence, letting them flow with the wind and disappear in between those bright constellations we seemed to like so much. I remembered her had reaching for mine, her delicate fingers interlacing with my long ones, as her other hand stretched out to the sky, possibly speaking about how, sometimes, stars were positioned in strategic positions that led them to form patterns and pictures in the obscure sky —filling it with wordless messages for those  interested enough in understanding them.

She said to me, back then, how often she got lost in between those patterns, forgetting that there was a world beyond her imagination, and that even when it was rarely better than the stories she told herself inside her head, it was still the world that brought me to her, and that was why she didn’t mind her reality anymore. I firmly believed that moments and people like her were aeternum. That even when they were no longer present, they floated around, somewhere through time, setting a place for itself in our story, meant to last forever, no matter how long that actually implied.

And I kept that close to me in every given second, trying so hard to not forget, to not subdue to my impulses and move on —even if that meant to give up a part of me in order to heal up my wounds. I tried to continue with what I thought was a normal life, accepting that period of my life was as much as closed, but that the dream of her would keep me company when I needed it the most. I felt more or less ready to deal with what was about to come, the stages of grief that everyone talked so much about, as I put my life and myself together once again after the hurricane that she was; but it wasn’t her fault, at least, not entirely.

                                         _____________________

                                                [Time being…]

Right now, she looked just as beautiful as I remembered her, if not even more. Her dark circles had diminished, almost looking like a faint blueish mark in the smoothness of her face. Her lips, once dry and bloody, shone under the light as she passed her tongue over them, almost nervously. She picked on her nails often, I could see it as I stared at them, looking a lot smaller in between mine than they really were, almost pure in contrast with my tattooed knuckles. She bit the inside of her cheek, breaking eye contact with me, and I could slightly hear the gears in her head working full speed, thinking about a million things at once, not letting her set her mind in one specific action or train of thought. She looked about a thousand times better than I did, and I wondered if she felt like so, but I knew it wasn’t anything better than a façade she had set up after breaking down so many times.

I was shaking, but I put everything on me to not make it so obvious, no matter if I was failing terribly. I couldn’t stand having the image of her so close to me, but at the same time, feeling as if she was miles away from my reach. Time ago, I could read her like an open book, written just for me in the stars, but right now, she felt more like a locked vault other than the person I used to know. I couldn’t see anything in her eyes other than the brightness the tears that had just formed in them let me see, no matter how hard I searched or how deep I tried to dive, I kept crashing against the walls she had built ever since we had parted ways. It made me wonder, even then, if there was a chance for me, to finally heal and become whole once more; and for us, to finally give up and let each other go —or, find a way to each other and the place we belong to. In the end, we were drifting apart, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough for her, to fight in a sea of grueling thoughts, resisting the crash of the waves we were both creating with constant worries and unspoken hidden hustles, but still lingering in the air. I tasted the salt of my own blood exploding inside my mouth, and I knew that meant I had bitten my lip deep enough to open my cuts once again.

“I was not drunk.” She suddenly muttered, taking me by surprise.

I stuttered. “W-what?”

“I was not drunk.” She repeated, “not that day, or any of those times. I was completely sober.”

“You smelled like alcohol; I remember”.

“Because not being drunk doesn’t mean I didn’t drink. I did, just not enough to be out of my senses.” Her hand had slightly slipped out of mine, fingertips barely brushing my tattooed knuckles. I longed her touch, but I pretended to not notice.

“Why did you make me believe you were, then?” I murmured. “All those times, carrying you home and painfully hearing all those words crawling out of your mouth, declaring your soul for me, making me believe we were meant to be forever, even then, just not present anymore, enduring the way of time through us as we scattered all over the universe.”

She stared a me, her lips mildly open, and her cheeks rosy. I could see her chest moving quickly, as if her breathing had sped up, the pulse of her throat rising and pulsing; her hand wholly leaving mine this time.

“Because making you believe I was drunk gave me enough courage to pour-out the self I couldn’t when I was sober. The worries, burdens, shadows and demons that lingered in the back of my mind during the day, and that I was just to afraid to share with you, fearing you would finally see we weren’t meant to be, and that you deserved better.” She finally explained, without knowing that every word that poured out of her plump lips meant another nail in my coffin, another set of weight on top my already tortured back; solely, one more bruise in the lightness of my skin.

“You see,” she continued, “when I first met you, I finally felt fear for the first time in such a long time. I was genuinely terrified that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you, and that it would mean I would lose another part of me in the way. You were just too kind, too bright, too full of life. A total sunshine in a gray day, and for me, that meant nothing more than pure trouble —and not in a bad way, more so in a 180° turn in the life I was accustomed to, and I didn’t know if I could take it. I was so used to me, to those dark days, out of my persona and inside my dark mind instead.

I was learning to understand myself and live with I had been given. A broken home, with no one to run to for comfort, that had left nothing but bad dreams, a set of wounds on me that took too long to heal. I knew I could never be good for anyone unless I were good for myself once and for all, I had learned to live with that, until you arrived. You made me want to be good, to finally let all those shadows go, and open the window to finally breathe some fresh air in comparison to my constricted environment.  I felt like I needed to be so good for you, that I forgot to be good for myself, and that wasn’t right because both of us deserved better.”

Her full eyebrows furrowed, causing a series of creases to form in the middle of her forehead. The chillness in the air wasn’t even near to chillness I felt inside my bones the moment I laid my eyes on her after what appeared to be like centuries. People seemed to have vanished, leaving the world in a constant state of silence and calmness, completely opposite of what was going on inside of my chest at that exact moment. She was so close to me, less than 1 meter away, but at the same time so far away I couldn’t grasp for her.

“I never wanted anything else than you”, I muttered, setting my eyes on my feet as if they were the most interesting thing in the world instead. “Why didn’t you talk to me?” Her sigh sounded like a speaker under the silence that covered us like a blanket.

“Because not even I was aware of what was happening until was almost too late to stop it. The voices and shadows were out for my head, and by the time I realized, I knew they had won over whatever I might have chosen instead, and that doing it to myself was enough punishment. You deserve me to do it to you too. You deserved someone good, who treats you like you deserve and even better than that. Who saw you as you were, and not as who thought you were. Who helped you grow instead of making you sink in a pool of self-deprecation and nothing but darkness. You deserved to shine, not to glim to the point of burning out. And I couldn’t give you that, not at the moment. That’s why I left, because if I didn’t know who I was first, I didn’t deserve to know you likewise.”

“How has it been?” I blurted, out of the sudden, surprising her and even myself. I cleared my throat. “I m-mean, these past few months.”

Her eyes lighted up a bit. “It’s been okay. I moved out of the apartment I was at, got rid of some stuff I did not need and reordered my whole life. Everything is new, and I feel refreshed. I even got a new job at that design company I told you about, I’m not sure if you remember.” She smiled lightly when I nodded. “I’m on therapy too, and I’m doing good. If I’m honest, I feel the best I’ve done in so long.”

Out of the chillness in the air, I could also feel a bit of warmness growing inside of me. I could pretend to be okay when I was with others but in front of her, I didn’t have to pretend, because she could see right through me, and I knew it for a fact. And I didn’t pretend, because I was feeling so much happiness for her that even if it meant her happiness meant the lacking my own, I would be okay with that. I loved her enough to look out for her even in the darkest of my days, and I was also aware that it wouldn’t go away just as easy as a cold. She had gotten her way in my heart because I had let her, and she had set for herself a place so deep inside, there would be no easy way to get rid of it. And I didn’t mind, because she was my only, even if I wasn’t hers.

“How has it been without me?” I pushed again, and I wasn’t near sure why.

This time, she kept her silence, intertwining her fingers and fidgeting her feet like a little kid. I could see the lightness in her eyes slowly fade away, and the faintness of the smiles drop from her lips, leaving them in a trembling mess. A wave of air blew by us, sending a set of chills down my spine, and some of her hair got out place, causing an indescribable number of tingles run by my fingers to set it back in place. I held myself, though.

“Do you want me to be completely honest with you?” She muttered, eyes almost not meeting mine. I nodded, pressing my lips in a single line, almost to anxious to talk.

“I miss you so much, all the time, that it physically hurts me.” She chuckled, taking a deep breath.  “I’m suffocating in my own pain, and no matter what I do, I’m still not able to function like I used to. Of course, I fucking miss you, Jeon Jungkook, I miss you so much I can’t even fucking deal with myself and I am not near sure I will ever go back to myself without you.” For one second, I could feel the earth stopping at once. The birds no longer chirping, the cars unmoving, the kids silent and the air not flowing. Every muscle in my body vibrating, my heart skipping a beat over and over, and my tongue stuck behind my teeth. She stared at me with an almost guilty face, her plump lip stuck between her teeth, covering the surface with a pale color. The tips of her ears sticking from under her hair were red, and I knew she didn’t think those words would leave her mouth in this lifetime, but we all had our breaking point, and she had finally reached hers.

Even when I had pictured a scenario in my head over and over, almost a hundred times, I could’ve never thought she would tell me she missed me. I would’ve seen her screaming at me, even passing me by without a second glance, or just being courteous for the mere action —but never pouring her heart out to me like it was nothing. I had learned, long ago, that I needed to give her the benefit of the doubt and that I had to keep second guessing her all the time in order to understand her doings. But right now, she seemed so genuine I was out of place, and I didn’t properly understand how to react.

“What—”, I stopped myself, thinking through what I was gonna say. “What’s stopping you?”

She rose her head, clearly confused. “Excuse me?”

I cleared my throat. “What’s stopping you? You know, from reaching out to me.” I could feel my own cheeks heat up and a cold sweat breaking down on the back of my neck, but I needed to know. I need to find something holding me in place, telling me to stay. Anything would do, it always did with her. She, in the meantime, fidgeted with her own fingers silently, possibly thinking through what she was going to do next.

“Myself.” She finally whispered, so low I almost didn’t catch it. “I guess that it has always been me”, she chuckled lightly. “It’s not you, it’s me.” I cracked a tiny smile in response.

She continued, “I think… that somewhere inside me I always knew I wasn’t ready yet for a relationship that required so much commitment. A commitment I didn’t even have with my own self, but since it came to you, I wanted everything and so fast I almost forgot to look back and slow down a little. I wanted it all; but there were things I could not give because I didn’t permit myself to have them either. Self-love, respect, discovering who I was and what I wanted; even just simply acknowledging myself as a part of the equation other than just a mere spectator. I was watching life pass me by, so caught up in my past and my traumas that I couldn’t fully take what was lying in front of me. Who I was spending those bright days with…”

I took a deep breath, and I guess, she did too before going on. “That’s why I decided to step back and let you go. Or at least convince me that it was the best option. I’m not so sure anymore”, she chuckled. “I needed to find that missing piece I was lacking before pouring myself to you or anyone else, and to do that, I had to take the risk alone—”

“Did you find it?” I interrupted.

“I’m sorry?”

“Did you find it?” I repeated. “What you were looking for.”

And to my innocent question, she simply smiled, a little bit of the light going back to her face and the tightness on her shoulders lighting up slightly. “I think, not completely, but I’m getting there. I was not lying; I’m doing so much better and feeling likewise. I feel brand new, if I’m being honest, as if I were given a new chance to start over.”

I nodded, understanding what she meant and how she meant it. Even if what she meant had the smallest suggestion that our story ended somewhere in the hills, I still felt such warmth inside of me like I hadn’t felt in such a long time, and I knew it was because knowing she was doing fine was all I needed, no matter what that meant for both of us.

“That’s amazing.” I finally responded. “I’m so glad I can’t almost put it into words. That’s all I wanted for you, to be happy in every sense; and I’m glad you’re finally feeling like what you’ve dreamt for so long.” She looked at me in the eye with a stare I couldn’t explain, but that drove me to another state of mind. One where I wondered what of what could’ve been instead hadn’t been, and what had we cultivated with each other to give ourselves the chances to grow and learn from our foolishness and stubborn minds.

Even when a part of me lingered, hurting and crawling, I did know I had changed for good. A broken heart changed a person, and, also, taught life lessons no other experience could when you finally took off the blindfold love provided and saw what was behind the curtain. The things you had done that had an impact on both parties and the respective decisions made on it— also taking in consideration how those built you up as a being. What you regretted and what you wanted back, but also those little things that were secret and private for just you too. I had learned in the tough way how needing someone else so much was dangerous, and how necessary it was to depend on yourself more than anyone or anything else.

I felt like a new start every morning, a new reset at night, and I was sure I needed to thank her for it; because, even when I did know she would stay as part of me for as long as I lived, I had finally comprehended that no matter how much it hurt, what she did was right at the time. I wasn’t happy, not as much as I thought I would be, but I was finally getting on my feet again, learning each day something new about me and my surroundings; I could admit that.

Yet, I still had to ask. “What about us?”

She stiffened. “Us?”

“Is there anything left for us?”

She took a moment to think, and even when it wasn’t more than two seconds, I could dread the seconds passing by as if they were years. My palms were sweaty, and my breath was hitched, but I had to push one last time before moving forward everything we went through.

  “Do you think there can be something more or should we just leave it were we did?” I continued.

“Do you want it to be something more?” She questioned back. I chuckled, amused.

“Would you stop questioning back and answer me properly instead?” A smile crawled on her features, as she pushed some locks of her hair back.

“I think that even if it’s the tiniest chance, it— we could start over. Not were we left it, because there’s just too much written and such pain that I’m not sure if it would be good for either of us. Unspoken words, broken bonds and lost memories that could break us apart for good.”

I blinked, something building up in the air. “Start fresh?”

“Yes”, she smiled once more. “Something new. Both of us in a blank page, discovering and learning those things we hid before. Finally finding out what could’ve been if we had started somewhere else, sometime else.” She seemed excited, and somehow, I was too. Even if I tried to push it away, a lingering thought remained, questioning if she would leave me again. And I was not so sure if I could build myself up once again. She seemed to notice because her smile faltered slightly.

“If you want to of course.” She whispered, finally. The tips of my fingers tangled with each other.

“How am I going to be sure you won’t leave again?” A thin curtain of pain covered her, and I almost backed down. Almost. But I needed to know, even if it broke me down again, for me to decide if I would stand a chance or not in this deceiving play of love we were having.  

“I— I can’t promise you a lifetime, Jungkook. I am sorry to say that, but I will not lie to you anymore, ever. I cannot promise you that, but what I can promise you is to love you as much as my mended body and stumbling bones let me. I can promise you to give you more than last time, but still give me myself what I rightfully deserve. To take care of you and help you stitch up the remaining of the disaster that broke both of us down. I can promise you my real self, or at least the parts of me I’m aware of; not that raggedy doll you got last time.” I took a deep breath.

She continued. “I can’t promise you a lifetime because I don’t know how long that will be. But I can promise you an aeternum, if so, were the eternity will last as long as we want to make it last… If you let me, that is—”, but she couldn’t finish because I didn’t let her. I did not kiss her, because I was not sure she wanted me to, but I did hold her as my life depended on it. I held her like I had not done so in so long, almost tattooing her in my skin and inside my soul. I held her with such warmth and care, but strongly enough for her to know I needed her just as much as she needed me. And she held me back, almost sacredly at first, but with a determined grip that left me breathless and gave me a sense of security. I wanted to believe she wouldn’t leave, but she needed to gain that trust once more. She already had me, even then, to start with.

“I missed you so much.” She mumbled, and I could feel slight shakes in her shoulders. She was crying, and even without noticing, I was too.

“I missed you too. More than you could imagine.”

“I’m sorry”, she stumbled her words. I just shook my head; not sure I could say anything else. And we just stood there, holding each other for so long, whispering things to each other we hadn’t been able to say in a long time. And I so on wondered, what would it be of us and where would life take us, because even if I wanted to push it away, I knew that both of had a heavy weight to carry up on top of us. That no matter what we did, the ghosts we carried behind would remain and the doubt would take a long period before leaving completely. But I knew that even then, I would love her. Because she was my one chance and even if I weren’t hers, I could still be her first in so many things and the one who held her heart like the most precious thing if she was ready to give it to me.