Beautiful Images ::VHope::

Smärta

I sit alone, the pressure in my head rising. I feel bad for kicking HoSeok out, but at the same time I feel at peace. I'm comfortable with my oncoming death. It's not scary to me at all, the thought of ceasing to exist. How hard can it be, really? I've done it once before. I laugh, who am I kidding? Of course I'm scared. I'm standing on the edge of oblivion, my arms outstretched. The longer I sit alone and wait, the more I realize that I need HoSeok here. I need his comfort because I'm terrified. I don't want another surgery, but I don't want to bleed to death, either. I bite my lip, struggling with the urge to call him.

On one hand, calling him would provide him with the ability to stay with me until the end. Whenever that may be. Calling him would allow us to spend our days together with a common knowledge of my impending doom. It's somethingI never had with JiMin, but he could have with me.

I shake my head; I can't do that to him. He needs to learn how to be without me. He's so young, and he has a really great chance. I tap my foot, the hospital room getting smaller with each torn thought. Whether I call him or not, the answer to surgery is no.

It's 12:31 in the morning. I bite my lip, dialing HoSeok's number. The phone rings for a long time before a rushed voice answers.

"TaeHyung? You called me? Why did you-?" I hear him gasp, "Oh, God. It's happening, isn't it?Oh, God. Fuck!" I hear him shout, starting to cry into the phone. I can picture the tears sliding down his cheeks as he condenses himself. I can see his chest collapsing in his panic. His thoughts are going a hundred miles an hour, and I can hear them through the phone.

"Fuck! Fuck!" He screams. "I'll be there, I promise. I promise. Just don't leave me!" He cries, and I hear his dorm door slam.

"Ho-Ho-HoSeok." I say, interrupting his panicked breathing. "I'm o—o-okay. Stop-stop running, and ca-ca-calm down. I'm fine-fine."

"I can't!" He exclaims, his voice sounding far away. I assume he holds the phone in his hand as he runs here. I try to talk to him, but he doesn't reply after that. The sound of his Adidas hitting the pavement is the only thing I can hear.

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I stand beside the bed, and wait for HoSeok to enter through the door. I try to work out what I should say to him. Nothing seems to explain what I feel inside. It's not that I don't want to be with him forever, it's just that I can't handle another surgery. A surgery the doctor's said may take away my ability to speak entirely. I shake my head. Telling him that would just scare him more.

And then it happens, the door flies open. He stands in the doorway for a moment, breathing heavy. He has dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes are bloodshot. I feel bad for making him feel that way.

"I thought you would be-."

"I-I'm not dy-dying." I say softly, holding my arms open. He instantly breaks, rushing into my arms. His face buries into my neck, and he sobs loudly. His hands clutch my back with a strong grip.

"I don't want you to leave me!" He cries, his lips brushing against the skin on my neck and making my hair stand on end. "I love you. Please, stay with me."

"I'm okay-okay." I repeat. He shakes his head.

"I can't live without you." He says, managing to bring himself closer. "Please get the surgery. Please, I can't. I can't do it. Please, for me." His words are whispered, hushed from his tears. I feel guilt for making him this way. I feel guilt for letting him love me. I wrap my arms around him tighter, breathing in his scent. So many men have let him down, hurt him. He's been physically and mentally beat into submission, and traumatized beyond repair. Yet here I stand, hurting him more. Here I am, holding him in my arms while I allow myself to crush him. I hate what I am doing to him, but I can't seem to get myself convinced another surgery is good for me. I release him, pushing him away so I can look clearly into his eyes.