"Tired of the endless march of time and the silence that envelops me, I journey in my imagination to you, where reality brings me to my knees. But my bittersweet return is filled with regret when I'm faced with the stark truth, how far my hands are from yours, the warmth of your touch just out of reach."
"I'm feeling a kind of emptiness, a kind of despair that I can't put into words. It's as if my spirit has dimmed, its sparkle lost, unable to shine the way it used to. Every event, every moment seems to bring a new wave of sadness crashing over me, drowning me in its depths."
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As Hyunjin entered the room, he heard the sound of little fingers tapping on an old piano, its scars bearing the marks of time. Han was sitting in the chair by the piano, trying to replicate the way his mother would play with it. The sight tugged at Hyunjin's heart, reminding him of all the moments he had spent in this room, his late wife beside him, her hands dancing over the keys with the grace and skill only she possessed.
Felix, the second son, joined in the attempt to replicate their parents. With a determined expression, he started tapping loudly on the old wood, mimicking the sound Hyunjin would make when they were all together. Then, Felix added with a hopeful smile, "Baba was doing that to Mama and she was laughing." The memory of happier times was bittersweet, a gentle reminder of the family that used to be, and the family they had lost.
"This sadness cuts to the core, a profound despair that is beyond words. It's as if the vast array of languages in the world falls short, unable to fully capture the depth of this emotional experience. It's a feeling that goes beyond simple sorrow, and leaves one grappling with the weight of its all-encompassing presence, a feeling that cannot be expressed, only felt."
As Hyunjin approached Han and Felix, who were trying their best to play the old piano and imitate their parents, his voice was sharp and firm. “What are you two doing?” he asked, his tone laced with irritation. Hyunjin's patience was thin, and the sight of his children playing on that old piano, the piano once played by their late mother, only served to irritate him further.
Han, ever the sweet and innocent one, explained, "We’re trying to play like Mama used to." His small voice was filled with innocence and longing, as he gazed up at his father. The words cut through Hyunjin's irritation slightly, as he remembered the countless times he had sat at that very piano, his wife beside him, her hands dancing over the keys with ease.
Felix, his eyes wide and earnest, looked up at Hyunjin, his small fingers pathetically imitating the sound of his father's tapping. "Baba, look," he said, a small smile on his face, "You used to do that with Mama. Isn't it like this?" Felix's words and actions felt like a dagger to Hyunjin's heart, the memories of those precious moments flooding his mind, nearly bringing him to his knees.
Hyunjin's face tightened as the memory of these past moments overwhelmed him. Fatigue and despair settled deep within him, and he desperately wished for a way to escape, to disappear, to just not be there. He longed to hide from the world, to shut out the constant reminders of his loss, to find a way to escape the overwhelming pain and grief that consumed him. The weight of this despair was almost too much to bear, and Hyunjin felt a deep longing to just simply be gone.
Hyunjin was snapped out of his thoughts as the doorbell rang, the sound breaking the silence and bringing him back to the present. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check as he made his way to the door, the weight of his grief still heavily on his shoulders.
