Traces and Storms

xxvi

   "A lesson," Woobin repeated. "That sounded distant just now."

I could only smile at what he said.

"Then," he cleared his throat. "What did he teach you?"

"I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not, but he taught me to be reckless."

"It has its pros and cons," Woobin nodded once. "But in what way?"

I looked at the wooden floor, where one of the boards had a deep dent. Something heavy must have fallen against it. "To not think, whether the odds are for or against me. If I want to love, then just love. With no agenda whatsoever."

"Love." he repeated.

I shook my head. "It's less romantic, though. At times, I think, 'It doesn't matter if it's not me in the end. So long as Myungsoo's genuinely happy, then I'll know I did a good job."

"How altruistic."

I shrugged. "It's a lie, though. Because I want him to look at me, too. I think of that, and yet I still haven't completely cut ties with my ex. It's hypocritical."

"And very human," Woobin added. "Auden wrote something about humanity's flaw: we crave what we can't have—not universal love, but to be loved alone."

I looked at him.

"It's wired in our system," he carried on. "So we keep on looking for what can fill us. Ten out of ten we don't find it at once. But when we do, nothing can ever compare."

"Have you found yours?" I asked.

Woobin smiled. "I think it found me first. I'm simply having a difficult time accepting it."

"And why is that?"

"It's not what I wanted. Although I know it's all I need."

"You won't speak clearly, will you?"

He grinned. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"You're not obliged to tell me anything, so I'm grateful enough as it is."

Woobin rested his elbows on his thighs, and clasped his hands together. He retracted his palms, with his fingertips still pressing against each other. "When I was about your age, all I thought of was myself."

I scoffed. "We're only five years apart."

"That's already half of a decade" he replied. "Don't underestimate that. Many things can happen in one season; you'll never know what might take place in five years."

I bit my lower lip. Woobin wasn't angry when he said that. More than anything, his tone of voice made me think he was telling it more to himself.

All I could say was, "I know."

And I meant that.

-::-

I stopped in front of our gate, upon seeing Myungsoo, sitting on our porch. He was wearing a denim shirt—the sleeves were folded up to the elbows in a rather sloppy way—paired with black jeans. The sunlight made his deep, brown eyes shine. I had to look away for a second. If I hadn't, then my momentum would be lost, and I'd end up gravitating towards him, once again.

I crossed our lawn afterwards, only to stop a few feet away from him. "What're you doing here?"

He scooted to his left, and patted the vacant space beside him. "Sit."

I wanted to retaliate, but seeing the way he stared, the words I wanted to say came rushing back in. Without a word, I sat down.

He breathed in a mouthful of air, and said, "I drove Soojung and Taek to the cemetery today. To visit her sister."