Art Gallery ~ minsung

19th May

Jisung's POV

Almost a month had passed since my exhibit got open to the audience. I have to say, I got a little bit of recognition. I thought instagram would help me get my name out there, but Minho's email helped me way more. 

Still, I felt weird when it came to thank Minho for everything. I really didn't want to talk to him, nor I wanted to get in contact with him in any other way and oh, I was absolutely not over him. Felix and Changbin spent their weekends planning suspicious activities to get the guy out of my head, but it was just impossible. I didn't even care about looking good on Saturday nights anymore.

At this point, I got used to the fact that I was missing him more than I missed the PS4 I left at my parent's house. Way more. I still had my fingers rubbing over my lower lip all of the time. That kiss was still itching and I miserably wanted another one. Just one, maybe it would help, or maybe it would make everything worse. 

I had no idea why Minho made his way in every one of my thoughts. I wanted him to go away so bad, I knew I couldn't even compare with the breath-taking woman that was his girlfriend and I should've forgotten about him way long ago, but I couldn't. I didn't know what was stopping me, maybe the fact that I firmly believed my feelings were reciprocated after that kiss. It wasn't only a kiss, it was the beginning of a new age, a Big Bang of a new universe. It was so desperate and heartfelt, it had to mean something. It was impossible that he felt nothing towards me and could still make my stomach dance with a normal kiss. How powerful could a real kiss from him feel? That girl didn't know how lucky she was. Or maybe she knew, because she exhaled confidence from every centimeter of her face.

So, since Minho was still all over the place, I was sad as hell. The weather didn't help. I had hoped the world would sympathize with my heartbreak, but I didn't really mean it. It was even worse now that almost everyday I woke up to a white sky and the rain poured for long hours both during the day and the night, and if it wasn't raining there was a raging sun and it was as hot as a Summer night. 

Sometimes I looked at the rain falling. I trailed the sides of the waterdrops splatting on my window with my eyes. I stared at it until I got some inspiration and felt the need to paint down whatever passed through my mind, which was systematically some black and blue crossover, sometimes with a bright red line that ran from a corner to the other of the canvas. I stopped using every other colour, they didn't seem to have a real meaning anymore.

Sometimes I looked at myself in the mirror. I had lost my appetite, and with it I had lost a pair of kilos. I didn't feel the need to shower and to take care of myself everyday. I constantly walked around the house in an oversized hoodie and high socks. My fingers always had dried paint on them and sometimes I accidentally painted not only my canvases, but my bedsheet, my kitchen counter, my washing machine, my dishes, my cutlery, and sometimes even my tv remote. I didn't bother cleaning up though.

I had this terrible habit of not washing my hands after painting. I loved the feeling of having dirty fingers. I could colour the world as if I had superpowers and the paint was fluid, then became sticky and finally solid and dry. It was fascinating to feel this change of state on my fingertips. 

My house being a messy painting was the main consequence of the destroyed mental state of my own persona. If my house was a mess, I was a mess too. I didn't have enough mental strength to clean the house and have a little talk with myself in periods like this one.

Sometimes Felix and Changbin would come over and try to help me, but I just magically zoned out everytime they tried to talk me into my heartbreak. Still, I made sure to tell them I was grateful to have them as my best friends. 

I had called what happened with Minho a heartbreak all along, but was it even a heartbreak? I couldn't have developed all these feelings for him in the span of four days, could I? The real problem was the emptiness I felt into my chest. I had caused myself a heartbreak, because the person that had stopped loving me was me. 

Sometimes I watched the sunset, or at least what I could see of it from my house, from the window next to my bed. I climbed on the windowsill and sat on it, sometimes with my legs hanging loosely into nothingness. It gave me a rush of adrenaline to know that one little movement could be the end of me, literally. Some days I was so sad that I actually hoped to lose balance and fall to the ground, finally putting a full stop to my chain of misfortunes. But I couldn't die young, could I? I didn't want to die young, and I wanted to see how many misfortunes I still had to witness.

Sometimes I slept four hours, sometimes I stayed awake four hours in a day. There was no in between and it seemed impossible to get a good night of sleep, not even if I tried to relax with a cup of tea. The drink disgusted me and nothing calmed me down or woke me up enough. My brain was in a constant state of haziness, I was never fully awoken. It wasn't important how much I slept at night, when I was out of bed I was still tired, and yet still tired was I when I got back in bed.

After all, I was ok. I was just depressed, yeah, that was the deal. I had all the time of the world. Some new faces followed me on instagram after seeing my exhibit. Every other day I went to the shop in the same district of the art gallery to buy a can of black paint and a can of blue one. I still had time to say thanks to Minho. I still had time to heal and to forget. I still had time to wake up one day and find out that I shouldn't have been this mad at myself for such a long time. I still had time to put a smile on my lips again, and also to make my cheeks as full as they were before.

The only thing that mattered was that I still had my friends, I still had my debts and I still had my life. The rest would gradually put its pieces together by itself. 

"Tomorrow I'll go buy some more paint, and it will be exactly as it always is." I reassured myself as I gazed up at the stars, finding them beautiful as always but knowing their light was too weak to bring me some of their joy. I drowned into the covers and drifted off to sleep.