I only had twenty-four hours to see Mioseon and only six hours to discover that she was leaving me to go back home to South Korea. Somehow I wasn't surprised by her abrupt decision. I kind of expected it but I didn't want to believe it. Remorseful, regretful, sure, but not surprised. When she told me, I could still manage to breathe. When she slowly started running, that was the end of me. The next six hours was painful beyond words and feelings. I did not deserve to be dealt with that just yet. Not by her. Couldn't be.
It took me what little of what's left in my pride to beg her to stay. Think it over; think it through; handle this together; promise I'll do anything; whatever you want; I love you; have mercy; I'm dying. My desperation was reeking and my laughter slowly faded out. One by one, the person began to fade away as well. Only in my wildest dreams could I possibly imagine that such a moment like this would come. Exactly a year ago I began this journey not knowing what to expect or the consequences involved were I thought minimal. I don't give a fucking shit about everything right now; I feel like I want to see world bleed.
None was left to shatter at the end of the day.
My body was limp and broken; my mind completely shut down. No sorrow had to be more painful, more visceral, and no rage could be more pure, raw, and volatile. I will never, ever forget this moment and shake off the feeling. Perhaps I will treasure this as a reminder and one day allow vindication to take over. We haven't officially broken off our relationship, me and her, but I don't think I will be able to love again the same way, maybe even more. Her or anybody else. We've been through a lot together. We've suffered, we've persevered, we've pulled through, and we've wasted enough time just to find ourselves once more. I thought I was already way past the soul-searching days. My fantasy brought me to a special place where I thought me and Mioseon would handle things together. Everything together. Always together. A promise very true to my heart, but very light to hers. I don't I can forgive, either. It was the harshest verdict I've ever received, moreso than anything else beyond our relationship. This one's the most personal, because it destroyed the good in me.
I did not deserve this. I would be the first to know if I did. But I don't. This was a premeditated plan, by whom was supposed to be my fiancée, to crush me coldheartedly. Nobody asked me for my opinion, or how I would feel, or how wrong and unnecessary this struggle was. For that I don't know how to look forward. For that I badly need a friend.