today ╱ jeongchan

012.

"September 25, 2020; Friday, Sunny! Today, you had pancakes for breakfast. Jinnie's mom made you side dishes, make her cookies again. You met someone weird, nothing important. No work tomorrow, clean the house!"

Jeongin read out the latest entry from his yesterday self, his quiet sobs already subsiding from the rather eventful morning filled with confusion and hot tears streaming down his face, much like the previous days he had. He gently wiped the dried tears on his cheek with the sleeve of an unfamiliar and oversized black hoodie he unknowingly has been wearing. He figured that it must be an article of clothing he bought in one of his post-amnesia days, and the fabric felt soft against his skin so he's not going to complain. It was like having that same strong arms around him. It felt extremely warm and comforting. But even then, he can't seem to shake off the hollow feeling inside his chest.

Was he forgetting something that he shouldn't?

He decided to flip through a couple of pages in an attempt to appease the tugging feeling and to silence the thoughts plaguing his brain. However, the mere effort to look for answers left Jeongin with more questions when he noticed the remains of what seemed to be messily ripped sheets from the bind. Some pages were missing.

But why?

Jeongin tried racking his brain for any possible answer, anything that would make him slightly remember what has been going on with his life on that particular time. Frustration swamping his head when he found none. Of course, his determined attempts were futile knowing well enough that he is incapable to retain new memories.

At this point, Jeongin knew that there's nothing better to do than set his worries aside and go on with his day like what he had planned. He won't be able to remember anything even if he tried and there are no sheets of paper to remind him. But the hollow feelings never left his chest, even when he occupied himself with cleaning his whole place all the while blasting loud music that he thought would help in distracting him.

Even after getting things done, his mind didn't stop drifting off. Something, or maybe someone, is missing. But he just checked everything in his house and the typical things he owned were still in place, intact. Brushing it aside, Jeongin decided to get on with his last task for the day – tidying his bed – before he could finally jump in the shower.

Maybe a visit to the café would give me enough distraction, he thought. After all, Felix is going to be there, along with Minho. Could use a company right now.

He carefully stripped the bed to replace it with the fresh sheets, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw a folded piece of paper peeking under the pile of pillows.

"What is this? Did I put this under my pillows?" Jeongin mumbled, scratching his cheek ever so slightly as he grabbed the paper. He let his gaze scan the piece, lips pursing in puzzlement when he saw the handwriting that is most certainly not his; something that he couldn't recognize but for some reason, doesn't feel entirely foreign. He must have seen it somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger into it. It took him a hot minute to peel himself off from another journey of ruminating over who could have possibly written the note addressed to him, before fully immersing himself with the contents that left him more than flabbergasted.

'To my beloved Innie,

I was the man you once loved. Well, you never told me directly but I want to make myself believe that you did. That's the only identity I could give you though. And I'm sorry if this letter will leave you more muddled than consoled.

I admit that it was selfish of me to deprive you of the truth that you, more than anyone else, deserved to know. But this is the only way I know to ease your sufferings. You have been through a lot, darling. And I don't want to be another reason for your pain. 

Just know that I love you. I love you with all my heart. I love you with my whole being. And if there's another life for us; if all the planets aligned and the universe will finally allow us to be together, I would still choose to love you, over and over again. And I know that you would end up forgetting how much I do, but I don't mind reminding you every single day if that also means I could spend the rest of my days with you.

I'm sorry that I had to leave too soon. I would love to spend more time with you, make more memories with you, but I am not sure if every morning I wake up would be my last. And I'm relieved that you would forget about me tomorrow, and the next days after that. That way, you wouldn't have to feel the pain of losing someone.

I hope that this letter brings you comfort that someone, somewhere out there, is loving you with his whole heart. And the reminder that despite your condition, you are not someone who is hard to love.

And if you're hurting, love yourself with my heart. It's kinda dysfunctional though, but it'll love you deeply and wholly.

Thank you for giving me wonderful memories that I could take with me. Thank you for giving me the forever I have been yearning for, even in numbered days.

I love you, Yang Jeongin.

Always will.

ㅡ C.'

Jeongin felt a sudden wave of grief wash over him after he finished reading the letter. His knees buckling in the most uncomfortable manner as if all the energy he previously had suddenly left his body. Prompting him to sit on the cushion for any kind of support he could take. Even without any idea why, he felt his heart clench in the most gut-wrenching way. Too painful that he thought he could die. And before he knew it, he was sobbing; the previously dried tears now replaced with the fresh batch. It stings. His eyes are leaking like a broken faucet that neither a wrench nor o-rings could fix. His mind races with so many questions, sparking the formerly waning desire to remember into something akin to despair. The simple want was replaced with the need.

He needed answers now. But how?

"Lee Felix," Jeongin muttered. It's impossible that his friends wouldn't know about the existence of the person who wrote the letter. After all, Jeongin was not one to keep things from his friends, especially about this matter.

Riding high purely on adrenaline, Jeongin was out of his front door and dashing towards the familiar café blocks away from his apartment the next moment. Completely forgetting about the cold shower or the scrumptious meal he was planning to have for lunch. And if people thought he was some kind of unhinged stripling running like crazy with tears streaming down his cheeks, he couldn't care less.

Jeongin reached the destination in no time. Lungs burning uncomfortably and body covered in sweat and specks of dust he accumulated from all the cleaning and running. He frantically stepped inside the shop, eyes scanning for the certain freckled male whom he found seated in one of the booths with an unfamiliar bloke. Without second thoughts, Jeongin approached the table with heavy but hasty steps, paying no heed at the latter who was cautiously watching him the moment he stepped a foot inside the café.

Gasping for air, he heard his own voice croak out the following words in the most desperate and broken manner:

"Where is he?"