Give me a minute.
a heejay drabble.
"Give me a minute."
I listened to you, because that was what we used to do—we listened to each other, Jongseong.
We listened to each other's good days, to each other's bad days.
You to my unfinished verses, my incomplete bridge; I, to your random spiels about how I'll never find a single ant near your honey jars, to your hidden ramyeon recipes when it's midnight and I'm already content with what three convenience store packs have to offer.
But your minute became two, three... days, four weeks, five months.
Six years I've waited till your minute is up.
Six years I've been waiting and now it's a little over a minute till the sun that rose through your skies have shown himself at the end of the aisle, a little over two minutes till he approaches you, and I, by your side, a little over three spans away from you.
You were a collector of stars, but why was I locked in one of your glass cases, too?
You were a collector of stars, and maybe that is why a mere stone like me, orbiting around you, would never have been enough for us two.
The star you collected looks beautiful, Jongseong.
Your Sunoo looks beautiful.
Give me a minute.
Maybe when I watch you seal the rest of your years with him, I'll say goodbye—
to our gossamer skies,
to cloudy, blue skies,
till I can say goodbye to everything I was willing to trade for you, and for your name, beside mine.
Maybe then I can say goodbye, maybe then I can forget you, till I am only what remains.
I'll give you one last minute, just one will do.
After that, I vow, in the name of the vows you spoke just now to your sun shining bright, I will learn.
I will learn to see me without you, till I am only what remains.
Six years I learned what being whole meant, and for the next six years, maybe I will have to relearn what whole means—now that I do not have you.
But for the next minute, still, I'd allow myself to be collected by you—
unknowingly, unapologetically—
give me a minute.
Still, you remain.
