My life was quiet.
Sometimes boringly quiet.
And often painful.
There were no big problems.
No exciting events.
No people waiting for me to come home.
I would wake up.
Go to work.
Come home.
Eat alone.
Then go to sleep.
And repeat the same thing the next day.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
Until the days became so similar that I couldn't tell them apart.
I thought that was life.
Just a long series of gray days that one has to endure until the end.
Then Michael came along.
And then Do-hyun.
And suddenly...
Life changed.
There was laughter in the house.
There were feet moving in the hallways.
And glasses left on the tables.
Silly arguments about food.
Long conversations in the middle of the night.
People asking me if I've had breakfast.
Such small things.
But they were enough to change my entire world.
For the first time in years, I felt like I had a family.
A real family.
Not perfect.
Not normal.
Not stable in any way.
But it's my family.
And that was enough.
That's why I'm scared now.
A fear I've never felt before.
Because when you have nothing, you don't fear losing it.
But when you finally get the thing you've wanted your whole life...
Fear becomes your constant companion.
Sometimes I sit and look at Michael.
And I see the weariness in his eyes.
The weariness he tries to hide from everyone.
And I see the anger he carries inside.
And I see the responsibility that's slowly crushing him.
Then I look at Do-hyun.
The fool who never stops joking.
The one who laughs even in the worst of circumstances.
The one who makes everyone smile even when they don't want to.
Then I remember what I overheard.
I remember the conversation I shouldn't have heard.
I remember the worry in their voices.
I remember Do-hyun's persistence.
And I remember Michael's long silence.
And I realize one thing.
Things are nearing their end.
But not the end I want.
They're preparing for something.
Something big.
Something dangerous.
Something like war.
And even though I want to scream at them.
Even though I want to grab them and stop them.
Even though I want to say:
Don't do that.
Enough.
Stop it.
I want us to live normal lives.
I want to wake up and find you two arguing over breakfast.
I want to come home from work and hear you both laughing.
I want to complain about Do-hyun's messiness.
And I want to be angry at Michael's coldness.
I want trivial things.
Ordinary things.
But I can't say it.
Because I know them.
And I know the decision has already been made.
And I know words won't change anything.
And that's what makes me angry.
Indescribably angry.
Angry at the world.
Angry at the circumstances.
Angry at the people who brought our lives to this point.
Angry because I'm scared.
And I hate being scared.
I hate it more than anything.
Sometimes I want to scream at Do-hyun.
Remind him of that day.
That day that was supposed to be happy.
My birthday.
The day he ended up in the hospital.
I still remember it.
I remember the blood.
And I remember my fear.
I remember the hours I spent waiting outside his room.
I remember how I trembled, trying to convince myself he would be alright.
But what I remember most...
is what happened next.
After he woke up.
After he was able to speak.
After it was all over.
I was sitting by his bed.
Tired.
Angry.
And scared.
And I didn't want to look at him.
But he just kept watching me.
Then he reached for a small drawer beside the bed.
And took out a small box.
I looked at him, surprised.
But he smiled.
He said,
"Happy birthday."
Even now...
Whenever I remember that moment, my eyes fill with tears.
He was hurt.
Covered in bandages.
He could barely sit up.
And yet...
He didn't forget.
He didn't forget my birthday.
He didn't forget the present.
He didn't forget to make me smile.
What kind of person does that?
What kind of idiot thinks about a birthday present while lying in a hospital bed?
Do-hyun does.
Because that's Do-hyun.
And that's why I love him.
And that's why the thought of losing him scares me.
But Michael...
He's different.
Quiet.
Always quiet.
But I know him now.
I know him better than he thinks.
I know his concern shows in the little things.
In the text messages.
In asking if I've eaten.
In remembering things I forget myself.
In watching over me when I'm tired.
In his silence when I need silence.
And in his presence when I need someone by my side.
He doesn't say much.
But he does a lot.
And sometimes I think that's the most dangerous thing.
Because you can resist words.
But it's hard to resist actions.
And it's hard not to love someone who warms your life every single day.
I sighed as I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
Today we're going out together.
Just dinner.
Just a nice evening.
Just a few hours away from everything.
But I feel like there are words I need to say.
Words I've put off for so long.
Maybe because I was afraid they'd sound silly.
Or trite.
Or too sentimental.
But I don't care anymore.
Life's too short to keep words inside.
And I'm tired of holding them in.
So tonight...
I'm going to say them.
I'm going to look at Michael.
And I'm going to look at Do-hyun.
And I'm going to tell the truth.
The truth I've kept hidden for so long.
That I was lonely.
Lonelier than I should have been.
And that they saved me in a way they never understood.
And that the house only became a home because of them.
And that the laughter I hear every day has become a part of my life.
And that I don't want to lose it.
I don't want to lose either of them.
I don't want funerals.
Or goodbyes.
Or tragic endings.
I just want us to stay together.
That's all.
Isn't that a small request?
Isn't that the least I could ask of life?
I want to tell them that I love them.
In my own way.
That Michael isn't just the man I loved.
But the one who made me believe I deserve to be loved.
And that Do-hyun isn't just a friend.
But the brother I never had.
The family I chose for myself.
The family I'm not related to by blood.
But they're closer to me than anything else.
I quickly wiped my eyes.
Then I laughed at myself.
Here I am crying again.
If Do-hyun saw me now, he'd laugh at me for the past month.
And if Michael saw me, he'd tell me to sit down and stop thinking. She smiled despite everything.
Despite the fear.
Despite the anger.
Despite the sadness.
There was something else.
Something small.
Something warm.
Hope.
Hope that everything would end well.
Hope that we would go home tonight.
And sit in the living room.
And argue about something silly.
And laugh.
And carry on with our lives.
Our small, simple lives.
The life I never wanted...
Until I had it.
And now...
I'm ready to hold on to it with all my might.