#re.clock

life before death

iseul had never been anything special. he lived neither glamorously nor under poor conditions, just in the sweet spot between. he had a supportive family, found work in a respectable counseling center, and was sociable enough to form a close-knit circle of friends. like a fairytale, he eventually meets his own better half. so many failed relationships and broken hearts, and finally bliss. his heart jumps whenever they are together, but it is nothing more than love.

but alas, all good things must come to an end. it comes slowly, creeping in seemingly from nowhere. iseul doesn’t recognize any of the initial signs, just thinks he’s come down with a winter cold. fatigue seeps into his every limb, dizzying enough for him to lose focus. he’d always been susceptible to seasonal sicknesses, but they were nothing that a few days rest couldn’t cure. he was still young, after all. he’s with a patient when he has his first fainting spell.

ever-analytical iseul had failed to notice what was wrong with himself. atrial fibrillation, they said. a common irregularity, going unnoticed until then. luckily enough, his condition was manageable with medication, and iseul could soon continue his normal life. but the fright had brought up the conversation of what would come next.

he’d heard of this before, afterlife. it was an interesting concept for iseul, who had believed in reincarnation for his life thus far. but he is easily swayed, so soft-hearted and permeable. the pleading eyes of his love are all too much for him. after all, how could he deny living in eternal paradise with the love of his life? they said they were soulmates, destined for each other in this life and the next. afterlife only seemed to be a fitting solution. and so, iseul signs away his life, content with the security of a promised paradise.

but he hadn’t expected to come so close to death so soon. with age, his condition worsens, and iseul finds himself in the hospital once again. complication upon complication left him with a deteriorating heart. so ironic, for somebody with so much love to give. it was unfortunate, yet convenient in some twisted sort of way. it was operable, at least, but risky as any surgery would be.

an unforeseen complication leaves iseul dead on the operating table.

life after death

his new life begins the same way his previous life had ended. a clean white room, pristine and sparkling under the rays of sunlight. it does not take long for iseul to adjust. he knew that he was to be uploaded following his death, but he had never expected it to be so soon; at least his health was no longer a concern. iseul couldn’t help but to wonder how his friends and family would react upon hearing the news of his passing. he is sure that they would wish him nothing but love. and so, fresh-faced iseul takes his first steps into a new world.

he revels in his newfound freedom, no longer bound by mundane obligations or the overbearing stacks of documents littering his workspace. of course he had been happy in his life, content with the progress he’d made so far, but he had always wanted to live a quiet life—now was his chance. his home is clean and there is not a mess in sight, iseul now taking pride in his simple lifestyle. the smooth exterior of a clay pot, or the tickle of a feather. he decorates cleanly, finding joy in the details and filling his spaces with cherished items. but somehow, he still feels empty.

he remembers all of the words dripping in honey, promises of, “we can live without any more worries” or, “you and me, eternity.” words so sweet, so warm, so empty. iseul trusted his partner of course, and he knew they wouldn’t be quick to join him. but thirteen years of waiting had taken a toll. he’s patient, so patient, but the seeds of doubt still live in the back of his mind. he doesn’t want to be bitter, and he knows himself well enough to know with certainty that he would fall right into his lover’s arms if they were to meet again.

perhaps he had just loved too hard.

nonetheless, iseul does his best to stay positive. he remembers the way afterlife grants him such freedom and opportunity. he should be thankful, for this blessed chance at living normally. why should he dwell on the past if it had been such a pain? he feels lighter than air, his head clear and soul at peace. the disease was gone, and yet he couldn’t help but to wonder—why does my heart still ache? every time he catches a glimpse, the shadow of someone who could be his lost love, he can almost feel the familiar twinge of arrhythmia.