Ocean // BTS

II

I worry I'm going to pass out because of the dancing buildings. It's not nice of them to tease me this way.

I try to calm myself by telling me it's just my tears creating Picasso outside my window. But I don't cry, and even given the circumstances, I don't think I am crying.

The ride is long, longer than it's supposed to be. Usually, I have music playing upbeat tunes that remind me of him. Which is why I can't do that. I can't think of him right now.

Well, I am. But not in the same way.

And it feels like the liquid in my brain is leaking, apparently out of my eyes and down my throat, because there sure is something in there. The music waves would lodge it up my throat and gag me, or choke me, or scare me until I throw up, which is already a terrifying thought.

But luckily, I'm still in shock. My hands are shaking, and I think they are taking all the energy from every other part of my body. No speaking. No crying. No thinking. Just shaking.

I want lofi. I want it to pass the time and make me feel like I was back in the time before that one thought had to drown my brain. It really is an inconvenience, you know.

So we pull up to the hospital and I keep my head down. The driver takes too long to park the car. Then I'm out, and I'm running to I don't even know where. Inside the building, is all I know.

Inside the building that has him.

The elevator either lodges the feeling in my throat up and down.

I'm getting closer to him. And even if the circumstances were different, the way he makes me feel is no different.

But this time there's going to be something different. And I don't know if I know what it really is or not. Because there's some truth in there that I don't know yet.