Enigma ||Park Jimin||

*20* A Lonely Heart: In Your Wait

Hey, let me tell you a story,

Once there was a heart which was made of paper. People threw it away, wrinkled, ignored. No one paid it a heed, not even tried to. Then, a matchstick arrived. With the littlest existence and a small flame on its top, it didn't let its fire get abated for one single second, even though it was fully aware of thyself turning into ashes. On that very day, the paper was illuminated. And the secrets it held, were unveiled.

That paper heart aforesaid was, mine. And you, were the matchstick to my heart. Even if you burn down to ashes, even if I, burn down to alike carbon scintillas,
At least we will burn together,
So, shall we?

A flurry of dry brown leaves fell down on my lap getting detached from the long, thin, fragile limb of the tree, leaning towards the shore. Slowly I brushed them off one by one, getting touched by another mass next moment. It seemed like a game between us, me and the shelter giving tree on top of my head. No one had the motive to win, rather just having some fun for thyself.

The irritating sound of ringtone sang by the phone was the only thing that could distract me from my peaceful state that moment, which it did. I didn't want to pick it up, I could've not picked it up. Nevertheless, I did.

'Hello.'

'Y/N, where are you? I have been trying to reach you since ages. We need you to be at the base while we do the research. They are shooting up on me because of you, girl...'

'Momo, I uh...can you please make it up for me today? I can't get to the base right now...'

'Wae? Why can't you?'  'Please just...' I decided to lie, 'Big Hit gave me tons of work to get done within this week, I can't even breathe. If I don't get my work done within the deadline, you know...'

'Ohh, okay. I will get your part managed then. Securing the job in there is more important than anything else in this mission.  Work well and take care.'

'Talk to you later.' I smiled and cut off the call, concentrating on the sound of nature. Psithurism.

A sigh of unfamiliar reason smoked out from my dry pale lips. It was just another...day? Which comes back every year, captured by several pieces of memories I held. A blue shade. I didn't want to remain like this. I wanted to smile, yes I did want to. But my teeth won't glaze out, my senses won't let me breathe in peace. So...here I was...

My slightly rough hair was dancing with the sporty wind running through the whispering cracks of leaves, and I let it flow. The ground I sat on was no longer green, rather covered by a mat of brown and yellow leaves, making a soft yet crackling bedsheet of comfort. Similar to the way leaves fall down one by one from a tree, a year drops off a person's life line, one after another, by passing of some seconds, minutes, to a certain limit of days.

Another year has passed, nothing has changed. Another will, soon. Will anything change that time?

Will I be the same person that I am now? Or will I become someone different, attaining something so precious that can change my entire existing self? Or, lose something, that will break me only to get built up in a new way?

Maybe, the second one. If something even happens, that is what most likely to happen. As I am too acquainted with going under it, it won't be a new type of thing for me. Breaking, standing up, that's a human I was like.

Even an all the time polished and painted tower starts to crack inside, shaking with its feeble foundation, why aren't I? I wasn't something different. Maybe my foundation too was shaking. All that I can do is wait, wait till my fall comes, wait till I fall down the same way the autumn leaves do. The leaves fall down beautifying the nature, maybe my fall would beautify the surroundings too, expressing gratitude to the people who bared to live along with me with their astonishing power of tolerance. No one remembers the leaves of second spring, as they come back every year. Neither will they remember me, as a girl like me, is not someone to be remembered of.