Angels Die

Fiftieth day

Hey sarcastic, manic by caffeine Youngjae,

                If you’ve read this letter that must mean it’s the fiftieth day already. Now I hope you haven’t run off to a skyscraper’s rooftop or to the Han River and ended your life because I’ll certainly kick you back to Life. Don’t beat yourself. It’s not your fault. You didn’t give me false hopes. Frankly, it was just my time to go. Actually I have often visualized myself dead before graduating college or just two years after that. But you changed it. You fucking force Life back in my hands when I gave up on it, you and your weird fixation on things. And I hate you… because you made me feel again.

I planned on just committing suicide, actually. Like jumping off the building during graduation ceremony, you know end it with a bang or in my case a bigger scandal. But, then you came and I just stopped thinking for awhile and then I started caring again and I began to fear Death. Again, I hate you, for making me run away from my destiny when I was ready to embrace the end of my life.

I never cared about what others were talking behind my back and neither did I care of what I tell them. But then when we started things out, even if you try not to show it I know you got affected somehow and I didn’t know what to do! Again, this is not how I function! I wanted out, I wanted you to throw me out but I was afraid. See how many times I’ve been afraid since I met you, since I started to hit on you in that party on the grounds of joking around? And for that I hate you again… because you made me anxious of what life would be like without you, or what would happen to you. Do you feel high and mighty now you shithead?

And you know what, my hands are tired now, I’m too weak for my own good. Let me just tell you a few little secrets seeing that I’m dying or am dead or had been dead. “Youngjae, Youngjae, Youngjae…” do you know how often times I’ve whispered your name whenever I catch you asleep over your desk, hunch over those books and scribbles? Do you also know, or have you never realized that I’ve kissed you as much also, of course just on the cheeks or the forehead or your nose – I am still afraid no matter what medical truth you tell me. You must be angry at me right now, for cheating on you, for taking advantage of you at those moments you probably were fantasizing about me. Hahaha.

                Youngjae, I’m sorry. I can’t keep my end of the bargain again it’s not your fault. Now you can save those other children who are just victims and they won’t end up like me – sick and demented and had given up on life the moment I learned I was sick. Go forth and be a wannabe genius again, save more people. Think of me when you masturbate, I’m giving you my permission now, it’s just fair I have often done so, of course I was thinking of you when I did it. Because I love you that way. No, actually, that should be another reason to hate you – I didn’t want anyone else touching me or me doing anyone or just thinking of anyone but you. Yes, you fucker, my world, what’s left of it, revolved around you and despite how little affectionate I have been I hope it has reached you if not then I hope this letter would. Because I will never ever in my life, and that’s why I am only telling you things in my death and probably in your sleep – that I have kissed you, I have cried thinking about you and not because my body has become too painful to bear but because I don't want to part with you yet, that I have prayed for another day to be with you, that I have whispered embarrassing words while you sleep. Yes most of the things are done while you were sleeping. You can brag it around that Jung Daehyun has only cared about one person more than himself and that is Yoo Youngjae and if Yoo Youngjae by miracle found someone else, he/she better not hurt him because I’ll be one angry dead lover, you tell that to your future whoever.

In sickness and in health, even if Death has done us physically apart,

Daehyun.

A year ago, at twelve twenty-one in the afternoon, as I ran home and dashed inside our room, Daehyun was in bed. With the head of bed elevated around forty-five degrees, Daehyun turned his head towards me, his eyes slowly opened when he heard me coming in.

“Daehyun! We did it! The guys and I finally did it!” I exclaimed as I carefully put him in an embrace.

“Good, because you surely need some sleep,” he remarked. He looked awfully weak then, I wanted to tell him he will be cured, he will be better but who am I kidding? Who were we kidding, we both knew what was going to happen.

“I’m tired, how about going to sleep with me?” he suggested with a dirty smirk. I chuckled, even in that state of his, his mind was still filled with perverseness. I got in bed, sat beside him, and watched him close his eyes as I held his hand.

Five minutes has passed, I couldn’t stop a drop from leaking out of my eye. I saw his wings again, but it was more of the bones now, all awkward and lonely. The last feather has fallen off together with the last of Daehuyn’s pulse. If only I had gathered those shed of feathers and glued them back in place somehow, Daehyun would probably be out of bed and be dancing silly with me now.

“Hey Daehyun,” I whispered against his head that I had cradled between my arms, my voice was croaky and hoarse, I had been crying. For the first time I had allowed myself to just ball it out. “Don’t worry, God is not condescending, he is forgiving and he will welcome you. Because you know why, you’re one of his angels. Angels sin Daehyun, angels lie, and despite popular belief I think angels die, how else are they supposed to go back to heaven then?” I said and kissed his forehead. Slowly I let him down and comfortably laid him in bed.

“Jongup, come now before I actually make something stupid and kill myself,” I called from the room, voice cracked and hoarse from the crying.

                                                                   ~*~

With flowers in hand, one year after, I stand before his grave which was newly attended to. And even in times like this I’d often imagine myself with a scalpel or butcher knife in hand and just cut my throat but then that would be too pathetic even Daehyun won’t recognize me in the afterlife.

“Daehyun guess what – ” I said towards the grave marker. Sitting on the grass, retelling everything that happened within the year as animatedly as I could until I grew tired of talking.  It has probably been a few hours already, Jongup has made his presence known, and it’s probably because he was just cautious. Although I haven’t been entirely suicidal during those times, I won’t deny that the thought has crossed my mind. Slowly I pushed myself off the ground, pat myself dirt-free and looked one last time and with a wistful smile and a deep breath I bid Daehyun farewell and walked towards Jongup.

Sadly, angels die. But I can live with that, slowly and painfully but yeah… I will move on, I will make the things impossible possible again because I’m Daehyun’s weird lover that way.

                                                                   END.