Remember the Lanterns

YS

Man, the number of times I have wanted to make this call. So many times had I sat, thinking about whether I should do it or not. Wondering if I would be greeted with pleasant surprise or if my call would be ignored. Maybe I should have done this ages ago, to get a more clear answer on the situation. But if it had been ignored, I wouldn't have let it drop. I would have assumed that he was busy and would call me later, and when he didn't I would make up an excuse for why he hadn't. It was clear that I was still a bit of a wreck, and despite talking to TJ and feeling better about things, I wasn't fully moving on just yet.
Hello?
His picking up in English means he knows it's me.
Hi! It's Hannah.
Hannie! It's so good to hear from you. I could hear the smile in his voice. How are you? How is it being back in Daegu?
We continue with some small talk for awhile. He likes being back, he has eaten all sorts of delicious Korean food and is enjoying this time before he has to go to work. He mentions the weather. I mention BYO. He inquires about it.
Do you like your new job?
It's ok. A lot better than the hagwon. And I live downtown now, so it's pretty fun.
I got a new puppy, he ventures. From that store we visited before – do you remember?
We had gone on a little stroll downtown one day, the long way in, walking by some pet shops on the main street, and some old rice cake shops, and the old medicinal market before heading to a bar downtown. Of course I remembered, it was one of our first dates.
Yes! Cool. I really don't know what to say.
He asks me how I look, whether my hair is the same, and what style I am these days. We had joked before about how I changed my style from princess to casual to cute to to girly sports girl to sexy and the other

categories that were typically used to describe how women presented themselves.
I guess I am cute style now.
Good, he replied. I like you in cute style.
Cute style meant headbands, matching belts and knee high socks or shoes and skirts and dresses or maybe shorts. No pants, no jeans, no Chuck Taylors. Actually, it meant very Korean. Things I had never worn or would have worn together before moving there.
Finally, he asks me if I have a boyfriend. I tell him I don't.
No?
No.
Really?
Really.
I don't believe you.
Haven't had one since you... I trail off.
I'm sorry.
No, I'm sorry. And forevermore will I regret saying this:
I'm lonely. I miss you. I want to see you. And I go to hang up the phone.
You should have called me earlier! he says brightly, which for normally totally monotone YS, makes me wonder what is up. We could have met.
Actually, I tried a few times, texts too, but you ignored me.
What about this weekend? Sunday? Are you free? I guess.
Do you want to meet?
This invitation is so casually made I'm a little taken aback. I hadn't heard from him for I don't know how long now, and it now seems that a reset button has been hit by me calling him. Am I going back to where I was before? Should we do this? Can we even do it if we wanted? Can we get drunk at the Korean bar together, and after walking me home, can you come up and do what we so used to enjoy?

This Sunday?
Yes. Are you free?
I'm smiling.
For you? Always. I'll just have to cancel the two other dates I had lined up for then.
Of course you will! You know how it is..
So, should I come pick you up after dinner? (he knew I didn't like going out for dinner).
Sure. 6 or 7pm?
6pm. If that's ok. You can have an early dinner. See you then YS.
I hang up without waiting for him to reply. Just in case he changed his mind or something. The phone drops onto my bed and I don't know what to make of what has just happened. What are his intention's here? He knows he could have called me anytime and I would have dropped everything. And then it hits me – maybe that's it! He knows too well that I am still in love with him whereas he has moved on. Pathetic. And while I still pity myself for not being able to move on like he did, I am already excited for Sunday evening. I go back to sleep and ten hours later, I wake up, rested and, for the first time in ages, happy. I don't even remember what I did the rest of Saturday.
On Sunday I decide to kill time by going through all of the flyers that have built up in my mailbox. I don't get any mail here, other than bills for my internet once a month. Most of them are for local food places. Fried Chicken (called Pelicana Chicken, plus a few other more local ones), Chinese food, some kinds of stew (I think), Pizza delivery (Deluxe Top Pizza Pockets, which makes me wonder why in the world it's called that), and a very strange one: for porn! My Korean has been getting better lately, and I'm able to not only read all of the words, but guess at the meaning as well.
Rorita supeurimeu. 7 High School girls for you. Mother breasts exploding.

Office ladies toucheu something. I coudln't gather the last word – themselves probably.
Hana's first time.
And so on,
It must have been Japanese.
YS would have found this funny. In one of the very rare emails I got from him at the start of his time in the US, he told me a story about how he asked one of his newfound Korean female friends if she watched internet porn. She apparently replied as if she was utterly disgusted by the prospect. He concluded by saying that he thought he had hung out with me for too long, because I clearly would have been interested in discussing the topic in greater detail. And it was these kinds of stories which confused me about him. He would sing my praises in comparison to Korean girls, and yet he wanted nothing to do with me.
There were two hours to go until 6pm. I get ready. I had already picked out my clothes, but I wanted to do a special hairstyle which would take a long time.
6pm. I'm waiting until I hear his SUV come around the corner. 6:05 and I've checked the clock about twenty times already.
There's a knock at the door.
I jump up from my bed and get the door. There he is.
Hi! I wasn't expecting you at the door!
Yes, I remembered the front door code. You look nice. You've lost weight, haven't you? And your hair is long now!
Shall we go? I grab my handbag, put on my shoes and lock the door, not wanting to discuss my appearance with him. I also didn't want to invite him in.
Did you drive here?
Yes, my car is around the corner.
Oh! I was thinking you would just drive around. Yes, I wanted to come meet you at your door.

It's colder outside that I expected. As we walk to his car, I wish I had dressed for warmth rather than 'cute style'.
So what are we doing?
There's a nice coffee shop I'd like to take you to. Ok, sounds good.
We get in his car, and he starts the drive to an area of town that I've never been to, which indeed is full of nice and trendy looking, likely overpriced, restaurants and coffee shops. I steal a few glances at him on the way over, he looks pretty good. but it's a quiet and kind of awkward drive. Getting to date locations often is.
He parks the car. Here we are! Would you like to sit outside?
Sure I reply, wishing again I had a scarf or something with me.
Actually, says YS, Dr. Kim is meeting us here too. Do you remember him? WTF? I feel like saying. I do remember him, but I've never met him.