The Mess We've Made | Minsung

chapter six

tw:
graphic intrusive thoughts and suicidal ideation

It's me.

It's been a bit since we've last talked, I'm sorry about that. I've just been so busy. Genesis is launching tomorrow. I know I never referred to my project by name, but that's what I decided on. The Merriam-Webster definition of the word 'genesis' is "the origin or coming into being of something" and I've always loved the word. I'd like to think that this project is just the beginning for me and that it certainly won't be the last thing I do, but it will be where it all starts.

I really don't mean to be cocky, but I have a lot going for me right now. I know you'd all be happy to hear this, though. I know you guys are proud of me. I'm proud of myself too.

I went through with my plan just like I told you guys I would. I've really done it this time. I actually made something of myself. I'm famous now. I'm getting my doctorate. I'm in a relationship with my soulmate.

Everything has fallen into place.

Except you.

I wish you could see it.

I miss you.

I say "you'" as if you're all the same person, but you know what I mean.

I think I have a habit of doing this sometimes.

It's not like any of you are alive to complain.

I think I'll keep doing it to spite you guys.

At this point, I'm angry.

I'm angry that you're not here anymore.

I'm angry that you didn't survive.

I'm angry that nobody looked harder for me.

It's been twenty years. I'm twenty-eight years old and nothing has changed. I still feel it all. I remember every thought I had in my head in that moment and I can recall the feeling I had in my stomach like it happened yesterday.

I keep you alive in my memory and in my thoughts. They say time heals all wounds but I think that's bull.

Time has only given me more time to think about what happened.

Jisung, that doesn't even make any goddamn sense.

Fuck.

SHIT.

Sorry, I know Mom and Dad hate profanity.

Scratch that.

You can't ground me if I'm an adult.

'Not like any of us were ever grounded in the first place but I know some parents do that to their kids.

People think I'm an only child. Is that terrible?

I know I should probably speak about it but it's so FUCKING hard that I can barely do it. Only six people know and it took seventeen years to tell the first person.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to tear out my hair. I want to light myself on fire. I want to break my ribs. I want to rip my eyes out. I want someone to destroy my hippocampus. I want to forget for one fucking second that you're not here anymore.

I wish you were here with me. I wish you could see what I've accomplished. I wish you could see the man I've become.

Everything I've done has been for you. Of course it's for me too but fuck, I want to make you proud.