The sickness Taemin felt as he peered down at the seemingly minuscule world below him settled in the pit of his stomach, almost as if it wanted to come up. There was something vaguely familiar about that view from the apartment building’s roof. He couldn’t look. He couldn’t cry and break down. All he wanted to do was jump.
At this point, I don’t know how many letters I’ve written with intent to send your way, how many of my thoughts that revolve around you have ended up stained with ink and tears on a piece of paper. Maybe all of my thoughts revolve around you now. It’s in those moments that I sit alone, crying my eyes out at four in the morning when you’re probably resting well and dreaming about him, that I know I won’t live again.
A temperate breeze of the early August afternoon encompassed his body like a blanket, slipping beneath his clothes and grazing his skin. With each step he took, the air seemed colder, more cutting; the kind of cold that made one think they’d never feel warmth again. And suddenly he was standing upon the last row of cement on the roof, toes teetering off the edge tentatively, and there was nothing he could do but look down and hope he’d never have to see that view again. A familiar sting welled up in his dark eyes and he could no longer see; he could only feel the wetness run down his cold cheeks, only smell the city streets that buzzed with life twenty storeys below him.
I can’t sleep. I don’t want to eat. I can’t think about letting another person run their fingertips down the curve of my spine the way you used to. I can’t stop thinking about loving you because it only ends in the realization that you never loved me.
And then he sat down. Just like he used to with his ex fiancé. Eyes closed, he sat and envisioned that the man was there next to him, his raven hair blowing in the breeze so beautifully like it always did. He imagined hearing his voice, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter than he’d held anyone else’s. He thought perhaps that would bring him comfort, but it only made his urge to jump worse. ‘If I don’t have him,’ he though, ‘I have nothing to live for.’
I always thought that when and if I wrote my suicide note, it would be to a number of people, perhaps the world as a whole, society at large. Maybe I didn’t look both ways when I crossed the street, or my father would finally get his hands on me. I never thought I’d love you fatally.
Moving to a standing position one last time, the boy drew a deep breath of summer air into his lungs, considering it the last breath he ever hoped to take.
You can’t help who you love, right? We both know that well.
And then one foot was off.
Please don’t grieve, or blame yourself. Just remember my name when you hear it and know if anyone loved you like you put the stars in the sky, it was me. You taught me to fly when I thought I never could.
Both feet were off now, and a momentary sense of flight overtook him. The breeze encompassed his body once more as he cut through the air like a bird in flight, descending to his imminent death.
You were the only peace I had on this earth. Now I’m going to find it somewhere else, in another world, in another life. I’ll find peace for once.
‘I’m flying,’ were the last thoughts Lee Taemin would ever think.
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