Millae K

The One Sentence That Ended It All

Late at night, I think about the one sentence that ended it all.

Who knew that words could hurt more than action? Who knew that you telling me you were cheating on me hurt me more than actually seeing it happen? Who knew that I would’ve rather seen it happen than you spitting those disgusting words at me with your damning soft tone?

At that moment we both knew.

We both knew that this was the end. We both knew that it was unfair for us to string this relationship along any further. Both of our lives were now being pulled in two separate directions. The thread now cut and knotted onto a new piece of string that would no longer cross.

With no words spoken between us, you ran into my arms for one last time.

Once our bodies collided with each other, it was if the past had suddenly flooded into my mind. All of that only made me appreciate you more and realized how much I was really losing in my life. The past few weeks, I felt that it would be easy to return to my screwed up regular life without you. But, now that I sit here and think about it…

I can’t remember life before you. Neither did I wish it had to continue on without you.

I lock myself in the studio now writing songs about you.

A song about your laugh.

A song about the sound of your voice.

A song about the color of your eyes.

A song about the dimples when you smiled.

A song about how you said we had it all.

A song about how one sentence ended it all.

I have written a million songs, but none of that matters because you aren’t here to read them.

It’s 7 AM now, and I can’t get out of bed.

But, I do.

With the hopes of seeing you.

Author’s note: 

The Way You Said We Had It All

Late at night, I’m thinking about the way you said we had it all.

Going into this relationship, we did not expect it to last. We treated every moment together as if it was our last. Our relationship was a fine string ready to be cut by the Fates. As the days together grew longer, the string of our relationship grew thinner. We knew what was happening, but the only thing that we cared about was living in the moment. The moments that would turn to faded memories in my mind.

Now that I think about the moment you spoke it into existence, it was the same day our own existence started to fall apart.

You were sitting on the kitchen island watching me cook pasta in the kitchen. Only wearing my shirt, and only my t-shirt. The only sound passing between us was the sizzling of the meat on the pan and the boiling water for the pasta itself. The silence passing between us was just that. Silence. Not even the kind of silence that was comforting. This silence was different. As if we were almost strangers watching each other from a distance.

“Yoongi, I think this is it.”

I looked up from the stove to look into those beautiful, sad eyes.

“I-I think we’ve reached a point in our relationship where...where we have everything we need and each other. Almost like...almost as if we have it all.”

At that moment, I knew she was lying. At that moment, I felt as if she only said those words to fix something we knew that had broken a long time ago. As if she was trying to put together torn pieces of paper with a single strip of tape. At this point in our relationship though, there were too many torn pieces and the tape was not enough to hold our love for each other any longer.

But, I lied along with you.

Inside, there was somewhat a hope in me that the words that were now spoken into existence would be exactly that--Be put into existence. I wanted us to work out just as much as it did in the beginning. The problem was, at this point, neither one of us put in the effort to do so. You spent long hours at school. I spent long hours practicing and writing music. The hours we spent together turned to a mere few minutes. The long texts we wrote to each other turned into a letter or two. The string of our relationship getting thinner.

The Way I Made You Feel Safe

Late at night, I’m thinking about the way you said I made you feel safe.

I remember it as if it was yesterday. The first time you said those words to me…It was 3 months into our relationship. We were on the couch in my studio, watching a movie. What movie, I don’t exactly remember. What I do remember? It was the first time I saw you cry. Out of nowhere, I felt your head fall on my shoulder, and I heard it. The sniffling. I looked down out of the corner of my eye and there you were, slowly building tears into your pretty eyes. I paused the movie. Moved your body closer into my arms with no words or excuses needed.

You continued to cry.

You held on to me with all the strength in those small arms. Your skin glistened under the dim lights because of the tears that streamed down your cheeks. Every teardrop that I wiped away, another one was missed. I wasn’t able to catch them all, but I was able to hold you in my arms. I don’t know how long it lasted for. I didn’t care how long it lasted for. I would’ve held you in my arms forever if that’s what it would’ve taken to stop you from crying.

It was then that you told me.

You lifted your head off my shoulder and cupped my chin in your dainty hands. You gave me a small smile with a slight dimple. I smiled back. You whispered the words ever so slightly, that I still resonate those words with the soft voice.

“Yoongi, I love you. You don’t even know why I’m crying b-but you still held me in your arms and comforted me. I know I can always count on you to make me feel safe.” She kissed me. And the kissed transpired into a new type of love between the two of us...physically and emotionally.

But, now it hurts to know that I am no longer the one who makes you feel safe.

Every time I looked at that damn couch, I wanted to tear it into fucking pieces. Shred the fabric to fabricate the thoughts running through my head the day you let me go. You cried. Cried harder than I had ever seen you before. You stumbled to the ground shouting that I was no longer there for you anymore. That I was no longer your safe haven.

The Dimples when you Smiled

Late at night, I’m thinking about the dimples when you smiled.

Two little supposedly, body imperfections that were placed right in the middle of your cheeks. Even with the slightest twitch of your mouth while deep in thought, I couldn’t help but stick a finger in the cute craters to grab your attention even just for a second. You would look at me and smile wider, the dimples more prominent then. At those moments, all I could think about were our children inheriting your dimples.

Those dimples were illegal.

Even when I was up late at the wee hours of the morning, you would come into my studio with a smile plastered on your face. I would pretend not to look at them from the reflection on my monitor, and in turn, it made you think I didn’t care to pay attention to you at all. In reality, if I faced you to look at them in real time…I knew I would give up everything and anything to make those dimples stand out. Because that’s how I knew you were happy to see me. Be with me at that moment.

Those dimples made me feel as if you were still happy with me.

I don’t know when. I don’t remember how. I just remembered how there began a time where your dimples didn’t show up anymore. Even in the face of a small smile, I knew it was forced because the dimples were no longer there. You would do that fake smile when meeting me for late night dinners after a long day of work. You would tell me everything was fine at work, and all you wanted to listen to was my day. You smiled when you needed to. You laughed when I tried to lighten up the mood.

But now, it hurts to know that I will never see those dimples again.

You know the very last time I saw your dimples was when I saw you peeking from backstage, watching me perform my solo song. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that right dimple form as the crowd fan chanted my name. At that moment, you were happy. But in reality, you were happy for me…Not because you were happy in general. If I would have known that was the last dimple I would have ever seen from you, I would have walked off stage to stick my finger in one just so you could look at me that way and know that everything was okay.

The Color of your Eyes

Late at night, I’m thinking of the color of your eyes.

Why were they so special to me? We had the same color eyes. Yet, yours looked…different? And I mean that in the best and worst way possible. The best way possible because I didn’t have to worry about other men’s falling for your eyes. The worst way possible because those were one of the qualities I fell for, and now that’s all I’m thinking about. Through your eyes, I found out the meaning of when people say “I’m lost in your eyes.” Through your eyes, I also found out the meaning of what it means to be “blinded by love.”

Your eyes haunt me now.

Now that I really sit here and think about it, I try and think of the times that your eyes looked at me the way I wanted to be looked at: like a man. YOUR man. But, now all I can remember are the times that you looked to OTHER men other than me when you needed someone most. When I was busy at work and couldn’t answer your texts or your calls…you turned to him for help. Whenever we were together and I asked how your day, your eyes started to look…blank. As if it was trying to register who I was to you.

Ironic how lies and eyes rhyme huh?

Your eyes that deceived me. Your eyes that told me lies. Your eyes that told me everything was fine when nothing was fine. Your eyes that looked into mine, tears falling down both of our faces, telling me not to leave. That moment. That was the only moment that I actually saw some kind of truth in your eyes. It was the one time I saw you look at me as YOUR man. And that’s why I stayed. Not for your sake. Or my sake.

Because you told me you can’t see anyone else but me in your future.

You told me on how you wanted me to propose to you at the park bench we first met at. That we would have that big wedding you always dreamed of with all our friends and family. You would succeed in opening your own academy, and I in my music. You even said you could see our first child having my looks, but it would keep your eyes.

The Sound of Your Voice 

Late at night, I’m lying here thinking of your voice.

You know, your voice was actually the one thing that stood out from the rest. You had THE voice. I don’t mean that horrible singing voice you would try to sing lullabies to me with. I mean, just your normal voice. The voice that could change certain tones to get different messages across to me. You had a certain voice when talking to strangers. You had a certain voice when you were teaching your students. You had a certain voice when we made love.

I loved your voice.

I loved the way it would comfort me during the scary movies. I loved the way you whispered in my ear sweet little nothings. When people say that sometimes they hear that voice during the hardest of times to keep them going…that gave them strength. Energy. That last push…. It was always YOUR voice.

Your voice.

You know, it was your voice that piqued my interest in you. When you first said my name, I just had that gut feeling we would be together….because no one had never said my name like that before. I even told you later on when we were going steady and you made fun of me. You teased me that night, repeating my name over and over again as I held you in my arm. Later on, you admitted that it was also my voice that also piqued your interest in me as well. I tried to repeat your name playfully over and over again, trying to tickle you…But, you made me say it in…well, other ways and louder and repeatedly then how you said my name.

But now, it hurts to hear your voice.

You know how I hear your voice now? The voicemail we recorded together on our house phone. When the phone starts to ring, I have to cover my ears after the rings just so I don’t have to hear your voice saying simple words asking the caller to leave a message after the beep, accompanied with my little laugh on the side. I tripped and hurt myself a few too many times to try and answer the phone before the answering machine went off. Whenever that happened I had no choice but to hear your voice.

The Way You Laugh 

Late at night, I’m lying here thinking of your laugh.

Out of all the soundtracks running through my head. Out of all the sounds that come out of your cute little mouth…I could be thinking of the way your singing voice resonates in the restroom when you take your showers. I could be thinking about that little noise you make when you blow your nose that sounds like an elephant’s call. I could be thinking of the last pleads you gave me when I was always so close to leaving you.

But instead, I’m lying here thinking about your laugh.

It was nothing too special really. Your laugh. I mean, it was really just like any laugh a woman had. The crinkle in your eyes, the smile that peaks through your plump lips, the little trail of laughing breathes you would finish off the last howl of laughter. It was a normal laugh.

So why am I lying here thinking about your laugh?

Maybe it’s because of the way your laugh made me feel. Physically and mentally. Physically, you made me want to suddenly pull you into my arms to keep the image of your smile and sound of laughter to myself. You would burrow your laugh into the crook of my neck, the place where you knew it was ticklish causing me to laugh in turn. Our eyes would meet and there it was. The mental feelings; that moment our eyes met mid smiles and you would come close to give me a kiss. On the lips. On the nose. On my cheeks. On my eyes. Anywhere you kissed me gave me those cliché butterfly feelings that only my mind could make up.

God, that laugh.

I remember the last time you laughed. The last time you laughed, we were in midst of a heated argument. I should have put the dishes away, but instead, you came home and saw the dishes still piled in the sink. I was on my laptop adding finishing touches to a song when you had called an hour earlier to do a 10-minute job. In the midst of all the anger you vented towards me, and all the dishes being randomly dropped on the ground as an attempt to be oh so dramatic… You. You out of all people started laughing. Why? Because apparently, you saw the waistband of my Shooky boxers peeking from my low rise jeans. Apparently, you could “see London, see France, you could see my underpants.”