Change
There was once a time when I remembered what it was like to love and be loved; a time when my dreams were filled with nothing less than perfection, with you. You’re talking to me. You seem angry, upset about something. Is it my fault again? What did I do this time? I can’t look at you, I can’t. If I do, I might cry. I know you don’t like it when I cry.
(You locked me up for a week the last time I cried, remember?)
Why are you so different now? You were always so nice to me then. You were nice to everyone, even when they mistreated you. I remember that shy smile you gave me on my first day of high school. I remember the first words you spoke to me. (I’m Lee Jinki; do you want to, you know, be, uhm, friends?) That’s right, I remember. Your eyes don’t smile anymore; you’re not the person I loved. Why are you spinning this web of deceit? What are you hiding from me? Questions - there are nothing but questions in my mind. They are questions that will forever be unanswered, and as they tremble on my lips, I wish I were brave enough to speak.
Or maybe, it was everything back then that was a lie. No, that can’t be. I refuse to believe that the old you isn’t there somewhere within your frozen heart. I refuse.
Your voice fills my ears again, and I realize I haven’t been listening to a single word you said. I whimper when you grab my shoulder. That’s the shoulder you smashed against the wall the other night, don’t you remember? You lift up my sleeve and I can feel your gaze soften as it travelled up my bruise. Your fingertips danced on the ugly purple bruise, lightly, and it almost feels ticklish. Your lips land on the bruise and I sigh. I missed you.
But then your grab my shoulder harshly once more and pin me to the wall. My fantasy shatters, but it’s alright. I’m used to it. Your lips devour mine savagely and I want to cry because this is wrong, so wrong, but I don’t. Because I know that if I’m good, it’ll be over soon. You make love to me. I’m hanging on those last memories of us, when we were happy.
You break down after you’re done, and you hold me to your chest. It’s the first time and I’m a little confused. Why are you crying? Your grip on me tightens, like you didn’t want to let go. Are you afraid I’ll leave? I can’t anyway. You hold me close for another fifteen minutes, and by then I am slightly bemused. It’s been a year since I’d seen the outside world, and for once I am seeing a glimpse of the old you. Your defenses are crumbling. Somehow, within me, there is a mix of hope and spite. And when I look at you, all my hatred is gone. You’re like a child, sobbing and hanging onto me so desperately.
Don’t leave me again Kibum, please.
Maybe, everything is my fault after all.