14. 07. 18 ; home

Jul 18, 2014 16:18

Title: home
Pairing: chanbaek
Length: oneshot

Summary: they say traveling could cure diseases. then good, 'cause it's been a year and ten months and still my worst disease is you.



There are many reasons to leave home. Teenagers go to college. Young adults get married and find houses to make their new homes. Families migrate to different countries. Some people just outgrow their old homes. There are many reasons people leave their homes, Park Chanyeol. Three out of four times, the reason I left mine was you.

I’ve always wanted to travel. I was thirteen when I made a deal with a friend we’d go to Europe one day. That deal’s been long forgotten now, and I’ve stopped talking to that friend for years, but at age twenty three, somehow I find myself going there anyway.

They say traveling could make you forget about anything.

Then thank God, ‘cause I’d been meaning to forget about you.

Do you remember when we first met? I’d always forget, but you never did. When people would ask us, you’d be the one telling the story. We were fifteen. We met in church. You took a seat next to me at the youth service and told me straight up you were a non-believer. I said I was just apathetic. But that day, when we first met - Oh God, when your eyes first met mine - I swore if this was not divine intervention, I didn’t know what was. And when you’d recount this story to all of our friends, you’d always say this exact line, and it always made me feel over the moon:

“I looked into his eyes for the first time, and I swore to a God I didn’t even believe in, if going to church meant seeing this guy and looking into these eyes for the rest of my life, I’d go to church all the fucking time.”

Now that I look back on it, I don’t know why it made me feel so giddy. The saying was cheesy, ridiculous, stupid, and semi-obscene, but I guess it was the way you said it. How your eyes just lit up and you just sounded so optimistic and so sure of yourself and I just - I wouldn’t have minded looking into your eyes for the rest of my life too.

The second time we met was a stroke of luck. Our friends keep calling it fate, but we both don’t believe in that crap. It was strictly a coincidence. I was waiting patiently at the bus stop for a bus that passed my route, when it started pouring. Three seconds in and I was soaked head to toe. I looked frantically for the closest shaded place and a little to my right stood a tall guy in a hoodie holding an umbrella. I didn’t stop to think, I just ran to the shelter the umbrella provided. Of course, the hooded guy turned out to be you. You gave me the same crinkle-eyed smile you did the first time we met, and we walked to the nearest Starbucks together where you bought me coffee and helped me dry up.

Later, after we catch the same bus and sit beside each other for the entire ride, you ask for my number.
The next day, you ask me out on a date via text. That was a huge faux pas, but we were both only teenagers anyway so who even cares? I let it slide.

Our first date was everything I expected it to be and more. (I’d recount it, but that would just open even deeper wounds and really I’m trying to write this on a good note, so let’s just not) And after two days, we had a second. And then we had a third, and a fourth, and so on and so forth, until we lost count. Until it didn’t matter anymore how many dates we’ve had or how much time is appropriate to have passed after one date to set another. Until you introduced me to your parents and I introduced you to mine. And on my 19th birthday, you asked me to move in with you to your own apartment. And I did. My first time leaving home, and it was all to be with you.

We lived together for two years, Park Chanyeol, and those were the most magical two years of my life. I loved waking up to the smell of coffee you’d made me every morning since I moved in, no fail. I loved you singing me all your favourite songs to sleep. I loved building blanket forts with you during thunderstorms and cuddling with you in bed until the wee hours of the morning, and I loved how you knew how to handle and go along with my smart-ass instead of acting like a little bitch. (And also I loved the sex. Let’s not forget the sex.) You were always patient, always kind, always just what I needed you to be and more. During those two years, your arms had become my new home.

Everything was perfect. Everything was great. Until it just wasn’t anymore. We didn’t have anything big happen between us to break us up. There wasn’t a third party, there was no abuse, no addictions involved. It was just you, me, time, and the spark that we didn’t even notice go out. And by the time we did, there was nothing left to rekindle. The fire had long since been extinguished. And the next thing I know I’m stuffing all my belongings in boxes and you’re giving me one last kiss when you drop me off at my parents’ house.

We were together for five years and the last thing you gave me was a kiss on the cheek, Park Chanyeol. If that isn’t bullshit I don’t know what is.

I said goodbye to the home I’d come to know, and was back to getting used to the one I left. Second time leaving home, and I’m not so sure it was because of you. I think our own indifference is to blame this time. There were no tears shed when we broke up. None from me, and none that I know of from you. I haven’t dated since, but I know you have.

A year and six months after we broke up, a mailman showed up at my door with a package addressed to me. Well not so much a package as much as it was an invitation. You were getting married to some stranger - some girl (i didn't even know you swung both ways???) - and I was hearing it from the mailman (no, not the mailman; I was hearing it from a piece of paper) and not you. I moved out of my parents’ house that day and into a condo unit of my own. Spontaneous, I know. Third time leaving home and yes, this time it is because of you.

I didn’t want to go to your wedding but I did, of course. How could I not? Weddings are a big deal. It’s ironic, though, isn’t it? How the first place I’d seen you was also the place I’d see you last? And it was in church, nonetheless. First I’d seen you there you were muttering expletives, claiming you believed in no God. Last I’d seen you there, you were being wed to a girl in His name. Funny how things work out for us in the end. Well at least, how they work out for you. They still haven’t worked out quite so well for me.

The same day you and your wife announced you were expecting a baby, I got rushed to the hospital. Stage two lung cancer, the doctor said. He left me alone after that, giving me time to process. Somehow I needed less time to process I was dying than process you were going to become a father. The moments when I had my head on your lap when we would think about the children we could maybe have flashed by my eyes so fast I thought I was going to have a brain tumor too. I didn’t develop one though, so I guess that’s one bit of good news.

Though I did leave home after that. Fourth time! And again it’s because of you. I told my parents I wanted to travel, which is the truth. They think you’re the reason I’m leaving. Which is true too, of course, but only partially so.

I’m here now at the Alnwick Castle, in Northumberland, England, just admiring the scenery and pretending I’m at the set of Harry Potter. Don’t worry, I’m good. Well I mean, I still have cancer, and no, I haven’t quite gotten round to telling my family about that yet, but it’s all good. I’m no longer reminiscing about the two of us plotting stops on the world map that we would take. No longer fantasizing about the two of us rolling over the very grass I’m sitting on. I’m at peace.

I know you haven’t received any reply from me about being your daughter’s godfather, and I will take you up on that, I promise you. I just need some time. And I’ll tell my family soon enough about my condition, you needn’t worry. Anyway, I think my family will be able to handle the news pretty well. Better than they handled you and me breaking up, at least. You know how much they adored you. And anyway, this cancer is nothing compared to the gaping hole you left in my heart when you left. I guess that’s the real reason why I’m traveling. To fall in love again - with people, and places, and countries, and have the hole in my heart be filled once more. For now, lung cancer can suck my dick.

They say traveling could cure diseases.

Then good, ‘cause it’s been a year and ten months and I’m still recovering from you.

chanbaek, hahahhaa, like really bad, also yung title sobrang di pinag-isipan , also this is really bad, angst, medyo sobrang bakla nito

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