It's Way Too Late To Stay Locked Up Inside Ourselves

Three Months

"A package was left for you, Ms. Yoon."

Jeong-hyeok. Her breath caught in her throat. Se-ri walked over to the doorman, her heels ringing out on the marble of her apartment building lobby.

"Oh? Who from?"

She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.

"Let me check." The doorman reviewed the package log. "Oh here -- it is from a Mr. Pyo. Shall I have it brought up for you?"

Se-ri smiled thinking of Pyo Chi-su's begrudging faithfulness. He had become Jeong-hyeok's most frequent messenger.

"No, I will take it now, thank you." Se-ri grasped the brown paper bag, tingling with anticipation. As soon as she was inside the elevator she searched for Jeong-hyeok's note.

There. She stared at it for a moment. It was now common and yet still wondrous; a physical object connecting them on the same day. Se-ri traced Jeong-hyeok's formal handwriting with her index finger. It was precise and beautiful, like him.

"Kimchi Stew - reheat on stovetop over low heat. Do not microwave."

Se-ri huffed a laugh. She adored the unsigned, blunt efficiency of his notes. So like Jeong-hyeok. After years of dating playboys who sent dozens of roses or expensive jewelry after a first date, she delighted in receiving his tupperware and terse instructions wrapped in brown paper bags. Jeong-hyeok's romantic gestures also included telling her to bring an umbrella because the forecast called for rain in six hours, texting to remind her to drink more water, and sending playlists curated by mood. Even from across the city, Se-ri basked in how care was at the center of how Jeong-hyeok expressed love.

God I miss him. She pulled out her phone. One more hour until I can talk to him.

This was how she marked time now.

The rituals of their long distance relationship in the same city had become sacred over the last two months. She began each day greeted by a message from Jeong-hyeok — always waiting for her no matter how early she rose. Se-ri would often respond by proudly sending a photograph of her coffee press brewing in his honor. He would remind her to eat lunch. She would send photos of his former roommates in her kitchen cooking on Saturdays. Jeong-hyeok would grudgingly admit that he had enjoyed watching an action movie (even while questioning the rampant plot holes). Se-ri would text him interesting facts that she had learned from a documentary (before she fell asleep). They purposefully filled the hole in their lives by making one another part of their day even from afar.

Each evening, no matter how late she was at work or how long a campaign event ran, they would spend hours talking on the phone until sleep inevitably claimed them. Jeong-hyeok was not a man for which talking about himself came easy. But the status quo meant that talking was the only method by which they could connect. And so, over the last months they had discussed every facet of their lives before meeting one another — first kisses, slights at school, moments of doubt on stage, in the military, or in the boardroom. They narrated versions of their lives to one another and listened with breathless awe to the stories about the Yoon Se-ri and Ri Jeong-hyeok who had somehow existed before they had changed one another.

When impending sleep inevitably wore away at their inhibitions, Se-ri and Jeong-hyeok would dissect a moment from the last four months— what they had been thinking or what they wished they had done in the fleeting time when they shared the same space. Murmurs and whispered confessions filled the later hours. Together they chased that feeling of being with one another by reliving it all separate and alone in their bedrooms.

Verbal intimacy had largely replaced actually seeing Jeong-hyeok's face. They had agreed not to send photographs of one another in an abundance of caution. And so Se-ri relied on media coverage of the campaign for glimpses of Jeong-hyeok. She had mesmerized Ri Chung-ryeol's stump speech while searching for his handsome but often stone faced son in the background. In turn, Se-ri smiled at Jeong-hyeok through the paparazzi's lens outside every building that she entered. She knew that he was always looking for her too; his sudden in depth knowledge of celebrity gossip betrayed him.