So here’s to the silence that cuts me to the core.
You would never understand how terrified and depressed and lonely I am now, ever since you and I said farewell. I’m not the same person anymore.
I hope it to be easy. It’s not.
Every person I meet reminds me of you and how they are not going to be you. My world revolved around the idea that I’ve found my Forever Person in you; now that you’re gone, I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone that could love me the way you did, or if I ever going to love someone as much I loved you.
This is the next page in my life where I have to get used to not being with the person I had hoped I could be with forever. This is me praying that you’d come back, say you love me, and you are going to stay with me to continue the life we shared for 10 years. This is me wishing for all this pain to just stop.
Because I miss you—
and your returning home
your playing the piano
your library of books
your set of old films
your love songs
Tomorrow I’m flying to Seoul. We were supposed to go there together, remember? I’m bringing a camera with me to capture the beauty of the city and watch everything in silence. I’m hoping to discover new things during my stay, maybe meet new people. I’m hoping to find myself there, hoping when I return home I could be the new version that is moved on and happy and optimistic that you’re gone for the better. But as cheesy and cliché as it is, I’m hoping to find you.
And in the cold weather of Seoul, your warm embrace would comfort me and I would cry in your arms and you would never let me go.
You would say, “forever and always, baby” even when you don’t mean it. I would take it all in for as long I could remember, until I decide it’s only mindless dreaming.