I remember looking at him hurt; it hurts me in ways I never thought possible. My life, for as long as I can remember, only consisted of my faithful love for him and only him; Oh Sehun. From when I first laid my seven year old eyes on him, I was falling. Hard. From then on after it was only pain. Mind you, I have my fair shares of cuts and bruises, but nothing compares to the fissures this one man has caused in my heart, mind, and soul. He’s brought me to the point past love, because love is suppose to hurt. At this moment in my life, he has killed me– annihilated my being.
The first blow was in the final year of our high school career. Prom was around the corner, and naive me believed there was a possibility of him proposing me to be his for the night. Our relationship was abnormal. We were strictly walking on a line between friends and strangers. It was never clear. However, two weeks before the supposedly magical night, I found out he’s already asked a girl. A girl who wasn’t me. I find out through a picture; him with the biggest grin on his beautiful face, she with a shy smile and glittering eyes. They looked perfect for each other.
I could only ask myself, “Why didn’t I ever noticed? ” I blamed myself for nights to come for bringing my hopes up, for even believing there was a chance for him to like me. But my feelings for him did not change, not the slightest. And it was while watching them share a kiss under the moonlight that I realized, I was more than in love with Sehun. I was willing to watch him fall in love with another, content with just seeing the smile on his face. By some miracle, we ended up attending the same college. I always thought he was too smart for average me.
He was far out of my league, but I couldn’t stop myself from loving him. Being childhood friends really connected us in a huge campus filled with strangers. Naturally, we stuck by each other and by the end of first semester, we were doing everything together. We ate together, studied together, slept(strictly sleeping only) together. Everything was going great, more than great. I was happy our relationship was finally explicit; really, good friends. I always told myself back in high school, middle, and elementary that if I couldn’t be his significant other, I’d be happy to be his friend.
I was just satisfied to stay by his side. Turned out Sehun didn’t feel the same way. By the beginning of our second year of college, he grew apparently tired of plain old me, and it couldn’t have hurt more than it did when he tugged onto my arm the minute we entered philosophy whispering into my ear, “See that girl over there? I’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend. ” It wasn’t hard to follow through with his words, being as handsome as he was, any girl would’ve said yes to him without a second thought. Her name was Irene and she was beyond beautiful. They were equal in looks and intellect.
Their physical features complimented one another; pale, smooth skin blessed their face, sculptured eyes, cheeks, and jawline fitted into each other’s like the perfect puzzle piece(maybe that’s why I crumbled a little every time they shared a kiss in front of me). I really wished there was a possibility of me and Sehun somewhere down the line, but when he tells me his grand plan to propose to Irene, it was apparent that I needed to give up. Hopes were flushed, views were renewed. Oh Sehun was no longer the boy that gets into fights over video games, no longer the whiny boy I teased about being trapped in a grown man body.
No— he’s matured in ways I never thought possible. His pupils flashes with protection when he’s with his soon-to-be wife. The rivers on his hands encloses around her delicate ones, promising eternal presence. It was a strange feeling. To be walking down the aisle, meeting eyes with the man I love with the entirety of my heart and he shares a smile, but it’s not me who’s he waiting for. He looks exceptionally handsome in his black and white tux, I concluded while staring at him on the sidelines(always the on the sidelines I bitterly thought). Moments later, the wedding march begins.
The march, “Here Comes the Bride,” never felt more real because it was reality settling; I wasn’t his bride, and he wasn’t my groom. My hearing was impaired. Distinct was the cracking sound of my heart as I watch the whole room cheer for the couple, and I thought, “Why couldn’t life be easy and I was just as happy for you as them? ” His eyes swims with happiness and love while mine drowns in sadness and love. I watch him mouth “I do,” and felt my stomach dropped 5,000 feet below me. Nothing yet everything changed after the wedding of Oh Sehun and Bae Irene.
Shortly after the wedding, I moved out of my parents home and into a small studio apartment. Something about living in the room I grew up in, shared all my thoughts and feelings to the walls that mostly comprised of Sehun, made me sick to my stomach. It was clear I needed a clean slate to start with. Also, it seemed pathetic, but I didn’t want to be left behind. Sehun was taking a step in his life, a step into Irene’s, and starting a new chapter. I needed some monumental event to take the same step as well. Little did I knew, it wasn’t a step forward but two steps back that I took.
Living in with my parents and two younger siblings anchored me. I was often depressed, although not so much it affected my daily life, but a certain sadness plagued me everyday of my life since I was young. Sehun knew about it. He’d helped me several times in college when I leaned a little too far off the edge, pulled me back, and walked me back to recovery. However, I suppose it couldn’t always be like that. He had other responsibilities now, his wife being one, and somewhere along the path, he’d forgotten about me.
Having left the safety of my family’s supervision, I found myself dwindling faster than I could imagine. I slept sporadically, ate scantily, and cried frequently. Most of the time, I cried because I missed my family. It was a big step for me to move out during college, but Sehun made it more bearable. Now, as I sat in the bed in the wee hours of the night, staring blankly at the ceiling, I suffocated myself in thoughts of loneliness. Particular thoughts of Sehun in bed with Irene popped up more than I like to admit. One day, while meeting up with my mother for a lunch date, she brought up the evident weight loss in me.
She remarks, rather sadly and disappointedly, that my cheeks had lost its youthful baby fat, eyes had sunken into black orbs, and walk has lost its step because the lack of food I was intaking was literally making my legs give out. I reassured her, as best as my physical state could live up to my white lie, that I was perfectly fine. She bought it, and I went home that day and cried until I passed out. It’s weird when people says best friends knows each other inside out, because if it were true, Sehun would know by now how much I love him, and how much I was hurting.
But he doesn’t. Sehun had called me, saying he was in my area and suggested coming over to have dinner. I couldn’t find anything wrong with the idea, so I agreed and an hour later, he was knocking at my door. The moment I opened the door, I knew right away something was wrong. In fact, I should’ve known since the phone call. He brushed it off when I ask him about it while waiting for our delivery to arrive, once, and twice when I probed what was going on. By the third he finally snapped. “Will you stop nagging me? You’re not even my wife or anything. ” Ouch.
It’s an obvious fact that I wasn’t his wife, but something about the way he spat out the latter portion made me felt like being stabbed 10 times. Was I really nothing to him? His eyes snapped open when he hears the hitch in my throat, and had showed obvious shock when he registers the tears glistening in my bloodshot eyes. Sehun was always prideful, I realize, and at that moment, he wasn’t any different. He muttered a gruff apology, bade me goodbye, and left the studio all before the first drop fell. If I was as terrible as my mother had told me before, after that night I was a walking corpse.
I replayed the scene in my head million of times, all times of which left me gasping for air because the emotions were suddenly too overwhelming. It was bad enough I was coping with the fact that I had lost the man I love to another, but when the same man flat out tells me he doesn’t think of me as anything significant in his life, I have died, resurrected and repeated that process three times. Three days after was when it finally took a toll. I woke up with a massive, head splitting headache and called in sick. Throughout the whole day I had slipped in and out of consciousness, never leaving my bed once.
It was around noon that I jolted awake again to the sound of my phone ringing. The source was coming from the coffee table about 10 feet away from me, and as I literally dragged myself out of bed, the world turned black. Irritation bubbles in my veins as my brain process the loud noises disrupting my sumber. I slept particularly late last night, pouring a few thousand words for the story I was working on, and the last thing I wanted was to be rudely awaked by the epitome of pain and suffering. Oh Sehun: the walking, living, breathing embodiment of undue perfection.
He’s in my apartment, unwarranted, and it was in that moment I regret my decision to give him the spare key. The obnoxious brat is shouting profanities into his headset as he shoots inanimate soldiers on his laptop. Too tired to even curse him off(as if he could hear me if I did over the headset), I accept the fact I’m awake at 10AM on a Saturday. I spend a good moment organizing my emails, replying to my group mates about a project for Econ and deleting spam mails, before I toss the device and march to the bathroom to freshen up.
Sehun hadn’t noticed me, having his back turned, and yelps in surprise when I nudge his head in annoyance. His voice had somehow escalated to nearly screaming, and if I didn’t shut him up, my neighbors were going to start showing up at my door. “Geez, aren’t you a ray of sunshine this morning? ” he mutters. “Can you blame me? You woke me up with all the noise, and what the hell are you even doing here? ” I retort while rummaging for my moka pot and almost empty bag of coffee grounds. I make a mental note to stop by the cafe downstairs to purchase another before the end of the day. I’m in hiding. ”
Sehun diction is always weird. I never take his words to its literal meaning, but somehow the way he says it is different, his voice is cautious. By now he’s paused his game and moved over to the island. I turn to give him a questioning look, telling him to explain what he means by ‘hiding’ exactly. He shrugs, revealing, “Irene and I had a fight. I’m laying low until she cools off. ” I turn my attention back to my coffee because it’s spewing out like lava in a volcano, and because I need to roll my eyes without offending Sehun.
“What’d you guys fight about? This time, I think but don’t voice. I also ask him if he’d like a cup of Joe to which he decline and grab my carton of orange juice instead. He goes on for a few minutes, telling me about how bitchy– my words, not his, Lord knows what I’d do if he ever called his girlfriend a bitch in front of me– Irene’s been lately. When Sehun insists on moving their date to next week because he’s got a paper to write, she blew up and accused him for not caring enough, not paying enough attention to their relationship. The irony. If only Irene truly knew how much Sehun liked her, probably even love.
He tells me about all the little thing she does that he likes; the way she absentmindedly plays with her hair while they’re studying, or the way she blushes whenever he’d surprise her with a kiss. It’s a miracle that he stills feel strongly for her, given the fact that he’s had 2 girlfriends prior and they only lasted a couple of months. Irene has been the center of his affection for almost 2 whole years. But Sehun being him is still too shy to express his emotions to the fullest, resulting in small gestures that Irene doesn’t quite notice.
He tells me all these things because we were close(and he doesn’t have those feelings towards me). Knowing him, I offer, “Do you want me to talk with her? ” He stares at me for a while, with a look I couldn’t decipher what it withheld. “Thanks, Reum, but it’s fine. ” He pauses to finish his juice and rinse the cup. He goes quiet after our conversation and I never brought up what ideas were bubbling in my head that whole day he spent in my apartment. “Ahreum! ” My eyes slowly peeled apart despite its inability to focus on the reality in front of me.
Soaking in the orange hue casted around my apartment, I question when I fell asleep and how did I ended up on the middle of the floor; my left arm outstretched and numb. I blink a few time to clear the grogginess and the first thing I see is a pair of black dress shoes. I still hear a ringing in my head, and grimace when the owner of the shoes screams my name once again. My mind is functioning slower than normal but it detects the voice belonging to Sehun, and true to my senses, I look up and see him, worried and distressed.
Ahreum,” he calls again, more gently, while I attempted to move my sore body. “Jesus, don’t ever scare me like that again. ” He tells me, when I ask what happened rather perplexed, that he called me earlier and when I failed to pick up, he came to check up, and that’s when he found me passed out. He wraps a secure arm around my middle, supporting my practically dead weight, and walk me to the couch. It was not a moment later did I felt sick to the stomach. My body, as if malfunctioning for survival, lurches forward and a cry of agony escapes my lips.
The same spot where Sehun had held me by was searing with pain. If this was the pain of being stabbed, I figured out my fear of cause of death. Sehun all but screamed along, utterly helpless. He begs me to tell him what was wrong, but I couldn’t muster up enough strength to tell him. He curses and curses, a terrible habit whenever he’s under immediate pressure, but eventually gathers me in his arms, rushing out the door and to his Audi all before the world blacked out, again.
