DANGER // YOONMIN

14

the next thing you told me about were the swings,

you didn't go into much depth.

our visit mostly consisted of ramblings and awkward silences.

you had told me that what you told me about swings was another half truth,

you said some of the truth but not all of it.

you said that it did feel like flying,

but it also felt like falling when you went back down.

that's all you left me with, and at first it didn't seem to be a lie, but

from knowing you

and knowing how you grab meaning from just a few words,

I knew you were talking about yourself.

later that day, you left a message on my phone,

it basically said that you wanted me to figure out this lie,

to find the hidden meaning behind it.

everything I tried to come up with didn't fit,

it seemed wrong, so I kept trying.

you would give me hints occasionally,

you would ask me questions,

but no matter how you prodded me,

this one made no sense to me.

then after it had been a week, you caved in and told me,

"it's like I'm flying, yeah?

well that's like me not being me, I'm flying out of my body, I don't have to be me for a while, and I think that's what keeps me sane, because if you were me,

you'd feel the same.

and the falling part,

it's like I'm falling back into my own skin,

and that is probably the biggest disappointment, because I so desperately want to be someone else.

it's not fair, you know?

like why do bad thing happen to good people?

why does sadness seem to be the largest epidemic that no one seems to be looking for the cure for?

why do the bad people always get lucky?"

you kept going on about the injustices of the world, how none of it was fair, how you wished that it was all different,

and i knew that this wasn't coming from nowhere,

this, was the last lie you would tell me about, but right now you just wanted to let out your anger,

about everything that bothered you.

"it's not fair,"

you were crying,

"why does this have to happen to me,"

you were sobbing,

"why can't people just accept me for who I am?"

you were shaking,

"why do I have to be such a freak?"

and with that you completely broke down.

the irregular intervals of your sobs echoing around the playground.

and you were sobbing uncontrollably

so I took you in my arms,

and I held you.

I would run circles on your back,

and whisper comforting words into your ear,

but nothing seemed to be working.

it was like an endless amount of tears had been hidden behind your eyes,

and there got to be so much pressure that it was impossible to hold them in.

eventually you did stop crying,

your eyes were red and puffy,

and your hair was a disheveled mess.

you looked at me with those sad eyes,

trying to convey a message to me,

but as it turns out, I'm not very good and figuring out your hidden messages.

so you told me,

"I don't want to tell you,

I don't want you to hate me,

I don't want you to leave."

and isn't it sad that you were scared to tell someone who you were because you were afraid I would leave,

because you were afraid that my view of you would be skewed after you told me the truth?

buts that how society had taught you to function,

you acted how you thought people would think you should in order to avoid the judgmental stares and the icy claws of society.

and in a way, I am much the same,

I fear judgement,

and really,

if you think about it,

we aren't really that different,

although we come from different parts of the world,

and although we are two separate beings,

we are not different.

we both feel the same feelings,

and we both see the same things.

we are the same.