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An Huiyoon
Fate bound us and I couldn't let go of you.
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Fate bound us and I couldn't let go of you.
That day, when I saw you climbing the rooftop stairs, I felt like the ground was collapsing. No, no. I followed you up, repeating only these words to stop you. The imaginations that passed during those few short seconds were incredibly cruel.
So when I finally hugged you tightly, can you imagine how I felt?
My poor lover. How many times did I kiss your wrist? It was a kind of prayer I offered to you. Please don’t hurt yourself, don’t be in pain. I hoped that you would love yourself someday. I also hoped that you would love me. You didn’t know how to love yourself, so you said you loved me and hurt me. That hurt so much that I begged you later. Stop self-harming. I even tried to commit suicide. I was always anxious. I felt like something would happen if your face was even slightly distorted. At some point, instead of hugging you, I started grabbing your wrist.
In order to fill your empty heart, I constantly split and melted my heart and poured it into you. Your heart was infinitely deep and hollow, so it was not easily filled. You were not satisfied and hugged me. Then you whispered your love, and it tore at my heart. You took my heart, one handful at a time. This was such a violent confession. I couldn’t answer that confession. My heart was so upset that I couldn’t push you away or hug you back.
Everything seemed like a joke from God. Your misfortune, and the fact that we met each other. It wasn’t enough to say coincidence. Fate was a better fit. Our relationship was the reason we were born, or destiny. Anyway, isn’t that kind of thing acting like gravity and leading you and me to hell?
I tried to cut you off several times. This relationship, which was only getting worse without getting better, was exhausting me. Something inside me muttered. Let go. Let go. Let go. I’m going to run away. I,
I
would collapse.
But I still love you.
Mold slowly growing on the damp wall. We sit on the leather-peeled sofa and hug each other. I don't say anything. I know that whatever I say won't reach you. Even if I tell you to stop self-harming, your scars will steadily grow, and hiding the sleeping pill bottle is much more effective in preventing suicide attempts than asking you to live. This is what I realized after struggling with you for a long time. I quietly pat your back. Even though I've gotten used to it, you're still in pain. This heartless abuser is unforgiving. Every time I take you to the hospital when you throw a tantrum, every time I see the number of medicines increasing, every time I buy something you want to eat after starving for two days, I tell myself. Let's not get tired, let's not get tired.
I think there's nothing more beautiful than a relationship that clings to each other and falls endlessly.