soulmate | lee minhyuk [COMPLETED]

grieving

"i won't let this go till I'm in the ground
promises you're breaking
parts of me you're taking
i don't know myself when you're not around." —chelsea cutler & jeremy zucker, please

the days seemed slow after minhyuk was gone. i refused to leave our apartment, i told my family and his that i'd take care of the funds all by myself. and even though i refused, they insisted to give me money.

i came home to the apartment a week after his funeral. my parents were unusually busy and so were minhyuk's, so i took the chance to go.

i remember how painful it was, opening the door and having the scent of the room flood me. everything was right how we left it, neat and tidy. for once i remember wishing that we didn't fix anything up, so it would feel like he was still there.

the kitchen was clean, but the sticky notes on the fridge that he wrote and the apron that he painted remained. i was on the brink of crying.

i remember walking to the living room, where all of his paintings were hung. i cried when i saw the biggest one, the one he painted that one morning of a whale.

i rushed to the bedroom, where his smell was the strongest. we had separate closets, and opening his made my heart break. i could almost hear it crack when i took his favorite sweater, a simple beige one with his name embroidered in black thread and a little whale below it. i bought that sweater, and embroidered it for him.

i remember hugging myself as i wore it, imagining that he was there. i lied down on my side of the bed and closed my eyes. for a moment when i opened them, he was there. and when i blinked, he wasn't. i remember thinking,

i could almost touch him.

i remember putting his pillow next to me and hugging it like my life depended on it. it smelled like his hair, it smelled like my shampoo with a mix of his own conditioner.

i cried, i cried until i fell asleep.

waking up was the hardest. i used to get mad when he stole the blankets by morning, but all i could do at the time was pray that he would come back to do it again. and we could cuddle until we were late for class.

i couldn't function properly. eating was painful without him in front of me. taking a bath was painful when i kept seeing his soaps and lotions in the bathroom.

even breathing was agonizing. i was crushed.

i prayed, i begged that he would come back. it felt like i couldn't do anything without him. i was so used to having him with me every step i took, for three years and a half with his presence.

it was like every tear i shed was a memory travelling to my thoughts. i didn't know what to do. so to cope, i wrote him letters everyday. i'd actually seal them and by the end of the week i'd mail them to his parent's house. i didn't care about whatever they thought, i just kept sending them.

dear minhyuk,

it's been theee weeks love. it's so difficult waking uo everyday without you, your presence. the air is heavy and i feel like i've been transported to some place else, some place like hell. without you, it's such a living hell. please come back.

love, miyoung.

i kept writing,

dear minhyuk,

it's been three months...

and writing,

dear minhyuk,

it's been six months...

and writing.

dear minhyuk,

it's been a year. i'm graduating love. i wish you were here to throw your cap with me and take pictures. god, i miss you so much...

i almost didn't stop, until his parents asked me to. they made me stop last year, 2019. i wrote to minhyuk for two years until his birthday, and then i stopped.

it didn't get any better. i couldn't get over him, even if i wanted to. people tried to help, but i refused.

and until now, i, son miyoung, twenty-four years old, am still in love with lee minhyuk.