What if...? || Markhyuck

-1-

[may 2019]

[minhyung]

Eighteen years old.

Not an adult and not a child.

The age of desire to escape.

A magical moment when you want to experience life and you do it.

Fleeing.

From responsibility.

From changes.

You lose yourself.

Falling.

Down.

I didn't fall.

I didn't know any of these things. I was taken away from my childhood and taken away from normal development. I have never felt the wind in the same way as other free people my age. The grass under my feet has never seemed so soft to me. The music in my ears was not the same as for the rest of society. From the very beginning, I was looked at differently and I felt adequate to it.

I didn't escape.

I had nowhere to go. Surrounded by a group of doctors who were supposed to show my parents that I'm a normal kid. From clinic to clinic - enclosed spaces in which I had to spend the best years of my life. None was right because none gave the most wanted diagnosis. They finally gave up and locked me in a place which evilness they weren't aware of.

Betrayal.

It hurts the most up close. Unexpected stab and escape. I experienced that. The greatest suffering because of a person I would never have suspected.

Guilt.

But not the sense of it. I didn't regret anything I caused. I had the right to do so and he deserved what happened to him. However, if I could control myself, my life could have been different. However, I couldn't. I still can't.

Gratitude.

What I went through left wounds on my mind, heart and soul. It gave me lessons and showed that even the closest person can stick a knife in your back without hesitation. I learned something priceless. You can't trust anyone in your life. To be hurt by someone means to be a weakling. Never feel the emotional relationship with anyone again. It was easier that way.

It kills.

People are leaving. They are with us, they move the heart and even if something never beats for another person, over time it is able to begin to vibrate a bit to the rhythm of something that pop culture defines as love. We're starting to lose ourselves in it. We weave the need to interact with someone alongside us in our everyday lives. We're getting used to it. But then people leave. They always do. The heart stops vibrating and freezes.

Forever.

"Will you not bother if I turn on the radio?" My mother asked with a smile, as if I had just returned from a two-week boy scout camp, not a three-year banishment from society. That's why I didn't answer. I was shitting her and her fucking radio. As for me, she could even put it in her ass and then make barrel organ out of it. If she counted on improving our relations, she was wrong. That woman has done me harm that cannot be forgiven in a flash.

A soft sigh filled the car, then a sound I didn't know. I didn't know it as well as many things we passed along the way. Unknown melodies, which are hits this summer according to the joyful announcer. Unknown buildings that popped up like mushrooms after rain, changing the landscape beyond recognition in which I once functioned as a teenager. Strangers, more and more colorful as they get closer to the center but somehow still more and more massive and homogeneous. All this caused me pain, although according to all reports, I wasn't able to feel it. However, I felt. I felt this pain, which made me realize that my life was wasted. Best time. A time I can never get back.