Scars

14. Why Jimin?

𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷
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Roughly two weeks have passed since my birthday. I would like to mention it as only birthday and nothing else. Because I don't want the painful memories to come stabbing my heart and make me cry.

I'm not sad, not happy either. Celeste and my mother were the only ones that kept me sane all those days. Sometimes I dreamt about Jimin. Felt his touch against my skin.

Nights where I woke up, cheeks wet with tears and heart filled with pain. But in contrast to our relationship my dreams are always happy. Where we spend time together. Have hearty laughs. Being domestic.

But it is only bound to dreams. In reality it's nothing but a wound that never heals.

Just like some nights where I wake up cheeks wet with tears having a happy dream about him, I woke up that night. Eyes burning with tears, where I'm not even in the mind to distinguish if they are happy tears or sad ones. I got out of bed and walked to the window. The same window where Jimin and I had our first date with a bit of math involved.

I pressed my hand on the window sill and stepped outside the window. There were surprisingly many stars that day. May be they were always there but I just didn't pay attention. I hugged my knees closer to my body and rested my head on them.

My chain of thoughts drifted to the day of my birthday. Jimin tried to say something that day. But I didn't want to listen. Everything was hazed and confusing that day. All I wanted to do was run away.

I don't know if it was the calm night that played with my emotions or the part of my brain that is still sleeping or my happy dreams that always kept my hope up about us...

I got the craziest desire.

A desire of call Jimin the midnight and ask him what that was he wanted to tell me that day. Next thing I knew was that I was standing near the table with receiver in my hand. I contemplated for few seconds before punching his number in. For some reason I wanted him not to answer his call. Not wanting to regret the decision I made in half sleepy and half "I miss Jimin mode" I was about to place the receiver down.

Then, like a lightning striking a lone tree, he answered.

"Hello?" his voice was raspy and sleepy. I sucked my breathe.

A heavy lump in my throat that I pushed in afraid that I would cry if I spoke.

"Hello? Anyone there?" he asked. How could he sleep when I all can do is wake up crying in the middle of the night or feel empty like hell when I wake up in the morning everyday.

I pressed the receiver tight against the side of my face hoping that he would end the call being frustrated.

Then his voice came, much clear and sweet. Soft as high quality cotton. Honey dripping sweet.