HTYLBF » jaeseong

V

V. A part of you feels missing when they're not by your side

I never realized how long an hour really is. Sure, it's 60 minutes, and 3,600 seconds, but what does time really measure? Most people just leave it at that, occasionally pausing to really think about the fact that time measures our lives. But that's as far as they go. However, us humans have always been too self-centered. Time existed before we did, so who are we to say what it measures?

We're tiny in the universe.

And because I'm tiny, I think time measures absences. Because I feel each second that passes in the hole in my chest that's usually filled by Inseong.

    It's so messed up, I know that. It's messed up that he's my everything and I'm only his something. It's messed up that I'm his best friend and he's my secret crush. And it's really messed up that being around him feels so good that it's painful.

    I'm like a puzzle; we all are. The people that we love are the pieces that make our puzzles complete. When the pieces are missing, it's like missing your organs. When Inseong's piece is missing, it's my heart that's gone. I don't really need it to live.

    While I wait for him to come back to our dead-end town, I think. Thinking's all I do; sometimes it's a marvel that I can keep it from spilling out. I want to; I want to talk freely for hours about everything. I'm always afraid to. Afraid that people will be annoyed or pretend to listen. Mostly, I want to talk to Inseong, but I'm worried that if I relax, more than just words will come out. I'm worried about all the emotions and worries and only some words. Three, to be exact.

    I love you.

    I hear my phone ding and unlock it, reading the text from Inseong. He's on his way home. I hardly even notice the smile spreading across my face, and I can feel the ghost of a heartbeat flutter inside my chest, faint as butterfly wings. I tell him to come to my house as soon as he gets home, then let the rest of the butterflies free. They flutter around my empty chest, but it'll be filled soon. I'll have my heart back, and I'll have my sunshine back.

    In three hours, my doorbell rings. My mom yells for me to answer the door, but I'm already racing through the house. I feel like I might burst, and I fumble with the door. I fling it open and see Inseong. He grins at me, but I bypass everything and hug him. He laughs, confusion coloring the sound, but hugs me back.

    I feel my heart start beating in my chest again. Inseong pulls away too soon, and I open the door wider so he can come in. We go up to my room, Inseong yelling a greeting to my mother on the way there. We flop onto my bed, side by side.

    "Hey," he says, and I turn my head to look at him, a breathless smile blocking the words I'm trying to forget. But they're like a song that's stuck in my head; it'd be a miracle to forget the way the syllables strain against my tongue.

    "H-Hey. I'm glad you're back," I manage to say, then laugh a little bit. He does too, and I know it's only been a weekend, but I'm glad he's next to me again. The puzzle piece falls back into place, but I forgot that it was lined with razors. I forgot that my whole heart was wrapped with barbed wire.

    The pain is familiar, though, so I hardly notice it.