spring day :: jinseob

06

It's been months since Hyungseob last checked his email and opened his blog. There's a huge flood of unread messages from his blog readers, he presumes it's about the news.

They always told him, emailed him and commented on his blog posts, that they loved seeing Hyungseob and him together, that they hoped they'd always be by each other's sides because they looked so beautiful together and because Hyungseob deserves someone like him.

Hyungseob's blog is filled with photos of them together, the main photos of his posts are polaroids, selcas, a whole ton of things that are just meant for the both of them, and it's painful to look at. His blog's background is a pastel pink and orange, soft colors, and it makes him dizzy because all he sort of wants to do is to either shut down his blog for good or restart it from scratch.

But he can't, he doesn't, he shouldn't, because that's the only thing he has left of them.

If he doesn't have his blog, he doesn't have anything. He lost a lover, he can't lose his passion as well, even if he had left it there untouched for the past few months after leaving a note that he'll be taking a rest because of some circumstances. He hadn't said a single word about the news on his blog, but his readers know. They already know, and he doesn't have to tell them.

He's not sure what to feel about that, honestly.

His inbox is filled with messages saying 'cheer up!', 'keep your smile, please! don't lose it!', 'stay strong' and the like. Hyungseob always liked to say his blog readers adore his relationship as much as they adored his blogs, seeing as every message they send always has some sort of reference to his relationship, to his lover.

They used to be full of heartwarming words, those messages. Now, they're heartbreaking to even look at, the number of them, and he somehow feels like they're all telling him the same thing.

Cheer up.

Stay strong.

We hope you're happy.

He appreciates the gesture, the thought of them taking some time out of their busy schedules to send him messages like these, but he doesn't how to reply to them, so he doesn't read them.

With trembling fingers, he types out a new blog post. It's short, it's blunt, it's barely an actual post.

I hope spring passes quickly. New leaves are needed for new lives.

It doesn't say much, and frankly, he's not exactly sure why he typed that out either as he publishes the post.