We were deep.
They knew each other well, and because they knew that, they stayed together longer than anyone else.
.
.
.
We were different.
They were opposites of each other, and no one knew that better than they did.
Eight years. Our relationship, which began playfully in elementary school, deepened with each passing year. In our third year of middle school, we redefined our relationship, and we—you and I—reaffirmed our relationship as a true lover.
But we,
If at that time we had defined ourselves as friends, not lovers.
Now, you and me both.
I hope it doesn't hurt.
University. A place where you have to study and work harder than anyone else to survive. You and I were in the same university, but we went to different departments. Namjoon, you went to the fashion design department, known for being noisy and friendly, while I went to the English department, known for being boring.
In our early twenties, we were both busy. The new environment was exciting and exciting. So, our contact with each other was quiet. I thought that was right. I believed that if I waited, you would contact me again.
"Jun-ah."
"uh."
“Haven’t we been seeing each other for a while now?”
"What, suddenly like that?"
"... uh?"
"This isn't the first or second time we've done this."
This isn't the first or second time we haven't seen each other. You say. Then we should see each other more often. That's right. Why do you act like it's natural?
"My lady."
"...."
"I'm busy."
"Me too,"
"I never did. I never went out alone when I was dating you."
"...."
"You and I are both adults now."
We're old enough to understand each other now, aren't we? Yeah? I was dumbfounded by his incredibly affectionate tone and words. That's right. Namjoon has never once left me behind and gone anywhere alone. So what am I supposed to do now? Are you suggesting we stop seeing each other so often? Are you suggesting I go out and play too? Like you?
"You're old enough to do it on your own now."
"...."
"I have plans, so I'll be going. I love you. See you later."
Jun-ah. You say that.
All I can see is him asking me to let you go.
I thought about it. Was I the prison that held you? Was all those eight long years just for me? No matter how much I thought about it, those times were for us.
"I never did. I never went out alone when I was dating you."
Whenever I think of those words, everything I said feels wrong. It feels like I was being selfish, like I was holding everything back from you. I hesitated for a moment, then pressed your number. Your number clicked naturally, as if it were familiar.
The connection tone was long. It was unusually long, unusually long. Please. Jun-ah. Pick up. But before long, the phone I was holding tightly fell from my hand. It wasn't a woman's voice, stiff and robotic. One second. In that fleeting moment, I heard it.
"Nothing. Just a friend."
Your voice, the one who defined me as a friend. Tears falling gently across the black screen. I hate it, I loathe it, I loathe it, but now I have to admit it. It's a fact I can no longer avoid.
You are boring to me.
A long, 8-year relationship. Boredom. That word has come to us.
From that day on, I stopped contacting him. I couldn't. As my contact with him faded, the traces of us began to change, one by one. In the photos my friend took instead of mine, the couple rings we'd matched weren't visible.
Really, has the moment come where I have to let you go?
I don't want to let you go. I want to cry and cling to you until the very end.
We're at an age where we can understand each other now.
... No. It's a breakup. It's a breakup now.
It's the right ending.
I've told myself over and over again that we should break up, but I haven't been able to do anything about it. It's kind of funny how I've just sorted out my thoughts and now I'm just putting it into action.
Silence. And then the bell rings, loudly breaking the silence. My heart pounds. Not the usual excitement, but anxiety. If I pick it up, something will happen. That kind of nervousness. This is the first time I've felt unwelcome by a call from you.
"...."
-"hello."
"Oh, Jun-ah."
-"My lady."
"...."
-"I thought about it."
"Uh, wait a minute, I have a lecture."
-"There isn't any."
"...."
-"... My lady. We've met a lot at this point."
"No, I, I still want to do things with you,"
-"Let's stop."
"...."
-"I'm tired. I'm tired of being with you."
I'll hang up. Let's end it here. At those words, I managed to regain my composure and asked, trembling. "I locked you up?"
"You weren't free when you were with me?"
-"huh."
"...."
-"I wasn't free."
Good night. Thank you for the past 8 years.
Just a moment, Jun-ah.
Stop. No answer came, and once again, a suffocating silence descended. Seriously, I couldn't breathe. Even as I tried to find steady breathing, tears flowed down my face. I had to hold on again. Because I truly couldn't do anything without you. Because I had lost the will to live.
Please answer the phone, Jun-ah. Think of it as saving a crazy person's life and answer the phone.
Jun-ah, please.
Don't leave me alone.
It's been a week since we broke up.
In a word, it's miserable. I miss you so much, but I feel like I'll cry if I see your face. I want to text you, but I feel like you'll hate me even more. I feel like an idiot and can't do anything. It's frustrating and miserable because I can't do anything like an idiot.
At first, I struggled to forget, I tried to erase it from my life, but the time we spent together was not short.
It felt a bit empty that that time ended with a phone call. We weren't meant to be together. Seriously, that wasn't the case.
Jiying.
"...."
namjun kim.
My heart stopped. Kim Namjoon. You got a call.
It's 2 a.m. Did I press the wrong number? Or maybe I was trying to call to meet again? Whatever the reason, I long to hear your voices, but I feel like I'll cry if I do.
Yeah, you made a mistake.
That's what you should say. That's what you should think.
"Please... please, my lady..."
I thought I would survive.
I felt like I could do it without feeling guilty.
It's been a month since we broke up.
I met you for the first time after we broke up.
It was the same as before. I felt like I was the only one who had broken down. When I looked at you from afar, it felt like I was the only one who had fallen apart. I lowered my head. I stroked my rough hands, thought, and sorted things out.
Namjoon.
namjun kim.
Because you showed that appearance.
"Hey, isn't that Yeoju over there?"
"what...?"
I'm glad you're okay.
Thanks to you, I finally felt it.
I really do.
"Lady,"
"bye."
"...."
It was your prison.
now,
"Let's not meet again."
I can let you go.
It's been a month and ten days since we broke up.
I've been living quite a life, cleaning you up. I'm trying my best to forget you. I'm working myself to death, slowly erasing you. Seriously, if only I hadn't gotten that phone call at dawn. If only I hadn't gotten it on my way home.
[Sender: Kim Namjoon]
Really, I could have forgotten.
Still, I didn't cry like last time. I pressed the button to pretend to be calm and waited for your voice.
-"... My lady."
"huh."
-"... Sorry."
"...."
-"You, you didn't lock me up."
I was with you because I loved you so much.
I guess I was talking nonsense back then, heroine. Because you're not here.
-"I can't do anything."
"...."
-"Please, help me."
I don't know what to do.
I can hear your sobs from the other end of the line. Ah, Namjoon. Why are you doing this now? Why, when I'm about to end you?
Namjoon.
We were really awkward. It's because you're new to this. So, let's both hurt just as much as we've both hurt. No more, no less. Just the right amount of pain.
"Now, let's stop."
-"Lady, lady."
"Let's just be sick for a bit, Namjoon."
Now it's the last one.
"Stop looking, stop talking."
-"...."
"...Stop it. Let's stop everything in this life."
This life was not good for you and me.
In the next life.
"In the next life, let's meet as mature couples and achieve all our dreams."
-"...."
"...."
-"okay.."
"huh."
"... love you."
"...."
"Finally, I'll do it."
"Can I hug you one last time?"
"huh."
Namjoon.
We really will next time.
Not us when we were 12 or 20 years old.
Towards a slightly more mature us.
We meet again.
I love you Namjoon.