It is midnight, and I am still awake. I am lying down on my bed and staring at the ceiling. I can hear the other members watching the movie. They invited me, but I rejected the offer.
Though I enjoy listening to their laughter in the living room and their buzzing sounds when Moon Hyung talks about other idols. Moon Hyung and Mochi always bring home the topic of a certain issue from other artists. What is funny the most is that they are whispering, but I can still hear them. The corner of my lips lifted, but my smile didn't reach my eyes nor my ears.
These past few days, I opted to be on my own. I am burning out. I am currently feeling so down and devastated. I choose to stay alone. This is the end of a tiring day. This is the time when I am ruined and getting tired of work and life.
After a few hours, everyone went to their rooms, and the surroundings became silent. Silence is now embracing me. But there is also an arm that embraces my small waist. Someone came who was supposed to save me. My eyes got tired, and I closed my eyes.
I am trying my best to fix myself and get back on track. I lost track of the days, and my health is now affected. I lost so much weight and dozed off even during interviews. Nothing startles me now, not even a loud bang from far or near. I just stared at them blankly.
My glowing face is starting to bloom. My lively eyes now reflect sadness, pain, and longing. The whole me shouts how broken I am.
I carefully remove the inked arm that is hugging me and stand up. I sit in our study area with a golden letter standing in the corner of the table. I saw my reflection in the mirror, and tears reflected. I am crying, unaware. I smiled bitterly and saw the colors, blue and grey.
I started writing down all my feelings with which I am dealing right now. My hand is like having its own mind and writing letters nonstop. I just go with the flow with the hand I am bringing. I have been writing for many days already without talking to anyone.
I really don't know what went wrong. No one dared to disturb me because I kept rejecting them. The papers were always dampened by my tears and got torn at the end. The shadow of the lonely night swallows me always.
With the colors I am seeing and the emotions I am feeling, is it anxiety or depression? I looked back at the bed and stared at the silhouette of the man I am loving the most. Tears are still flowing, and I can hear his giggle. I miss his laughter, his happy voice, and my love for you. The giggle I am hearing became an echo—a colorless echo.
I extended my arm to imagine reaching out to him. I reach out countless times. Not just to him. but to everybody. I reach out silently. I just want to be happier. Am I being too greedy? Am I selfish?
I resumed writing again, engulfed by my own emotions. Though I still feel my heart, I breathe faster than usual.
I wrote down all the questions that remained unanswered. The questions that were asked but not intended to be answered. The questions that have been thrown are not to be caught, but just to unload. Where is my angel? Every time I cry. Every time I smile, can you look at me cause I'm blue and grey?
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I asked not to be responded to but to just utter the words that were coming from my heart. I search not to find it but to be lost so I can find myself. I have been lost for many years.
However, within me, I discovered one thing: I am waking up every day, not because life is beautiful, but because it has become my responsibility to wake up, lifeless. My everyday life is always the same as what happened yesterday. But today, it seems like an unfamiliar scene. When did it become like this? The last time I knew, I was happy. I was hopeful. I was a dreamer. Have I become used to it? or have I collapsed?
I don't believe in physiognomy. I don't believe in God's conviction. I can't feel myself. I can't find myself. The rainbow looks different to me. When it rains, I dance. Loneliness is here with me on rainy days.
I became silent, serious, and aloof. I am not as depressed as they suspect. I mature. My past experience has taught me a lot. Maturity is different from depression. I helped myself adjust to everything. I took everything seriously. Now handle those responsibly.
I stopped writing. Look at the clock on my left: 5 a.m. The whole night has passed, and I am still writing for myself, I just want to be happier. The cold breeze touches my exposed skin. I need warmth. I need comfort.
I stood up and lay down beside him. He instinctively wrapped his inked arm around me again, pulled me closer, then kissed my head. I closed my eyes, snuggled on his neck and fell asleep at dawn. Good night.
