✩𝘚𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘈𝘶✩
She turned around to leave when she realized the bookcase was tilting in the direction of Jungwon more than it should, and the books were now falling off the shelf. Jungwon flinched at the sight of the books falling d...
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6 MONTHS LATER
Jungwon exhaled deeply and looked at the sky. It's been 6 months since Damin left him. He didn't want to lie, but it's been really hard on him.
He would always think about her every second of the day, wishing she was here with him. Her death took a large toll on his physical and mental health.
He'd often skip meals, which resulted in his small and skinny figure, and he would stay up all night because he didn't want to dream about her.
Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Damin and that always made him tear up. He often had dreams about her that felt so real, and whenever he woke up, he would breakdown in uncontrollable sobs.
He sometimes had nightmares about her too. One time, he had a really bad nightmare that he couldn't sleep for 4 days straight.
His mother even brought him to a few therapists to deal with his depression but that never helped.
Jungwon had stopped going out anymore, school was the only exception, and his grades dropped down. He was failing in almost every class and he didn't want to do anything about it.
He remembers promising Damin he would take care of himself but it wasn't as easy as everyone thought it was.
He could see how everyone went on with their lives, as if nothing ever happened, as if Damin never existed and he hated it. He hated how he was the only one affected by it. He hated how he was the only who seemed to care about her.
They say relocating and starting over marks a new beginning, or to put in better words, signifies the end of a chapter of his life.
He didn't believe that initially, for new beginnings always commence from the heart and not from where you live or what you're doing. However, Damin's death changed that for him. And here he is, six months later, sitting next to her grave, clutching the letter she left for him.
He'd been here for hours now, but his limbs have given up; partially from exhaustion and partially because of helplessness. But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. Healing is a slow process, and an important part of the remedy is the will to heal.
A tear rolls down his cheeks, the smile trembling as he sniffled, and closed his eyes. He chuckles, reminiscing about the day they played with snow. He remembered it perfectly. Oh, how he wished he could go back in time and treasure that moment forever.
He remembered her reaction when he told her he hated her. "It must've hurt, right?"
His voice is no louder than a whisper, voice morphing into much more of an apologetic tone. And he realized— He never properly apologized for it. He never got the chance to.
There are days when melancholy settles on him like a sudden change in weather. The kind of sadness that is untouchable. Like the presence of an ache where you can't pinpoint where exactly it hurts, you just know it does.
