But sometimes you have to go Trade your heart for bones To know you need to come back home, come back home
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It's been three years since the death of Suho and our anniversary.
It has been three years since I went to Thailand.
After I came back to Seoul, I realized a lot of things about myself. I realized that I liked reading books—and not those self-improvement books Suho used to fill our apartment with, but fiction. I liked reading about romance, spies, war... I went through countless books in the past years.
I began to do things on my own. I went to restaurants on my own, watched movies on my own, went to parties to meet strangers, and made new friends. Today was no different and I woke up to get myself a coffee, a framed drawing of me and Fullsun on a table by the bed. I smiled like I usually did when I was reminded of those times and sighed.
I took half a day off today because I had to go to the cemetery. I also had a plan to quit my job. It seemed like a building that I was trying to sell off for a very long time had suddenly gone off the market and was sold. I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. To sell that building was a career goal.
I wanted to do what I did three years ago.
I wanted to drop everything and travel again for a while.
As I sipped my coffee, I went to pick up the flowers that I would bring to Suho's grave. I got into my car and hummed a small song. My heart no longer hurt when I thought of Suho, but I found myself finding comfort in my isolation. After I parked my car, I walked over to Suho's grave by the tree, forget-me-not's in my hand when I stopped.
Someone has been here, I noticed.
By Suho's grave was a sunflower. It wasn't in a bouquet, it was a single flower laid against his grave. I frowned, wondering it would have been Sehun or Kai who came but I remembered that they weren't in Korea.
"Probably Baekhyun or Chanyeol," I whispered to myself as I walked closer to his grave, laying the flowers by the stone. My fingers reached over to adjust the sunflower so it leaned against my bouquet before I spoke softly.
"Not a day goes by where I don't miss you," I said to no one, smiling to myself. "And not a day goes by where I don't thank life for your existence. Happy anniversary, love."
