seconds and minutes didn't matter. hours felt only slightly needed. to me, days mattered more as i realized, how long i hadn't seen sanha for. but what i could say was just days and not weeks, felt more meaningful than anything else.
i was working a shift when a handsome boy that looked somewhat familiar came in through the door.
"Hello, how can I help you?"
"Um... I have arrangements for a funeral to do."
"Of course, I'm so sorry for your loss. Would you like to look at the cata—"
"Blue catalog, A6 merged with white catalog's C7."
i smiled, sort of a weird merge. looking through the forms he would have to fill out, i take out a pen. these past few days we had gotten a lot of funeral arrangements, mj and i had to even train new workers since we needed help with them since we couldn't handle everything on our own.
i remembered that day now so vividly as mj and i got off the van and started unloading the flowers inside the funeral home on our own, holidays having been near made some workers take vacations early on.
it was like always. empty room with just chairs and the casket being rolled in just as we got there. we always left the casket for last, out of respect of course.
the family came in, three men as they talked to the funeral home's management. most of the guests were already here, apparently the time they sent us had been wrong so we were trying to do this quickly but carefully.
i didn't like taking care of the casket so mj took care of it while i tied flowers onto the chairs.
"Thank you for doing this for us."
"We owe you."
"Nonsense Jongje, you are like family to us."
"Yeah mister Yoon, you don't owe us."
my eyes went wide as i recognized the name and the voice, both clicking in my head at the same time.
i stood up and looked for his face. he looked up from his shoes and looked at me, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Miss Han, w-what are you doing here?"
i noticed the man that had ordered the flowers from us, his arms being held by another boy, a little younger than him. mister yoon approached me, almost carefully as if he was scared.
"I'm the flower shop doing this arrangement."
mr yoon's eyes widened.
"You! The note!"
i frowned in confusion. but as he went back to what i assumed were friends or family, mj's scared voice called for me.
"Nari..."
i quickly made my way to him, looking at his back concerned.
"What is ... it..."
seconds, minutes, hours, days. it never mattered anymore.
my heart sank into a pit of darkness. so many thoughts ran through my head but none made sense. what was he doing here?
"Nari, what happened? Why didn't you tell me this was your boyfriend?"
i shook my head as i took a step back. i felt my eyes shaking as they searched for answers to questions yet to be asked. my boyfriend?
"I... I didn't..."
i kept shaking my head. what was he doing here? why was he here?
"Miss?"
i turned, my blurry vision looking up at mister yoon as his eyes looked confused and hurt.
"He left a note for you."
why would he leave me a note? why didn't he just talk to me? what is he doing here?
i shook my head as i pushed his hand and the note away.
he could just tell me face to face. he wasn't here. that isn't him. he hasn't answered his phone because he is busy. my boyfriend— that isn't him. my boyfriend is home playing video games, mourning his friend. my boyfriend—i just saw him a few weeks ago.
"Miss... you didn't know? He didn't tell you?"
i looked up, not being able to speak, finally my head stopped shaking. what didn't he tell me?
"My boy... he inherited his mother's Creutzfeldt Jakob's disease. I-It made him too weak and his fibromyalgia just made things worse and... Miss, he really didn't tell you?"
i shook my head but only for a second as i moved my hand to my mouth and ran to the casket and looked inside again.
my sanha.
my dear, what happened?
the world let me have every emotion it could give as i fell to my knees.
crying every single tear of my body couldn't have helped with the pain of my chest. a hole was being dug out inside where my heart once felt to be there. my throat pried for me to speak so i did. i screamed for him and only him. i begged in incoherent words for the world to give me my boy back, to give me my light and life back.
"Yoon Sanha, Yoon Sanha, Yoon Sanha—"
i punched the floor till i was pulled off and taken outside, only to drop back down to the floor and repeat the name over and over.
whatever energy was in me was weighted down to my eyes, hands, and throat.
so that i could sob this sorrow away,
so that i could make my knuckles bleed from anger,
so that i could scream this love and adoration that i felt and just couldn't give.
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