Remember the Lanterns

YS

I bought a few cheap wines, some random bottles of alcohol and some grenadine. We can try to improve our soju sunrise.
Great. I'm on my way.
He had shown up that evening wearing jeans, a baseball hat and a white Calvin Klein sweater and had looked drop-dead gorgeous. He looked best casual. Taking off his shoes at the entrance, he stepped into my kitchen and then took another step to enter the living room, and then another step still and he was at my bed. He plopped down on the floor and said "let's get this show on the road" – he knew a wide range of English expressions and idioms, and I always laughed when he said things like "my phone is on the fritz" or "what a douchebag". It never became clear to me where he had picked up that kind of language. Within seconds, we were sat on the floor on opposite sides of my folding table, upon which I had prepared a few anju dishes, and glasses for mixing, shooting, sipping, whatever, along with a myriad of bottle. It didn't matter that my place was small, with essentially no ambiance. Wherever we were was exactly where we wanted to be, and that's how it had always been with us. We sat there for about the next four hours, mixing random drinks, getting drunker and drunker, laughing louder and longer, and having one of the best times. Actually, I used to say that things were always better with him. When we were together, we never took anything seriously, we laughed and laughed, at silly things which I can no longer recall. Sometimes he would stay over with me, and sometimes he wouldn't. After our quasi-bender, we had sex, watched America's Next Top Model, did it again, drank some more (which later, we seriously regretted), fell asleep and then woke up in the middle of the night to go at it a third time. He stayed over that night and we got delicious delivery the next morning and nursed our hang-overs. When he didn't stay over though, naturally, we would sleep longer and better (without each other to distract us from the act of sleeping) and so we both enjoyed this as well. By the time we felt well enough to venture out of the apartment, it was late- afternoon. He had his car though, and we went on a little drive, I don't even know where, and we stopped to try, for the first time, chicken asshole. This is what he called it. I believe the Korean words for it are ddong jip, but he wouldn't tell me, since he enjoyed how disgusted I must have looked every

time he said yum, delicious chicken asshole. Later, he checked his dictionary and came upon the terms 'amniotic sack'. It was just another silly outing throughout which, we just laughed. We must have still been drunk though from the night before, because it didn't take long before we were drunk again, thinking of alternate names for what we were eating. Fowl butt, chick behind, poultry derriere, Kentucky fried sphincter. Not funny now, but at the time it seemed the funniest thing in the world. Plus I was again impressed with his English vocabulary. Later in the evening, he came back to my place and we took a shower together. One thing I really liked is that YS would always get sentimental when he was drunk.
I'm so glad I've met you, He would say, I've never spoken about some of the things we've talked about with anyone. And he would hug me and kiss me gently on my forehead. Will we get married, Hannah? When we do, do you want to have a western style or Korean style wedding? But as soon as weddings were mentioned, one of us would recall the strangely named Wedding hall in Daegu – Anus Wedding Hall. Of course we would decide that this would be our dream location, and we'd end up in laughter again, entangled in each other's arms, our cheeks and our stomachs hurting. Such great memories. Then, after our mixed drinks the night before, and our chicken asshole earlier in the day, he told me "I love you Hannah, sarang- hae".
I love you too YS.
And this is what I thought of while the phone was ringing....
Hi Hannah, he says tentatively.
HI, I say, trying to sound disinterested.
Where are you?
Walking home.
Are you alone?
Ya.
Are you sure?
Geez, why did nobody ever believe me when I said I was alone. Ya, just going past the hospital now.

Can I come and see you? It's midnight.
Are you really alone? Yes, I am.
I want to see you.
Why?
YES! Couldn't believe I had just said that, and was so proud of myself for doing so.
I don't know. I just thought..... he trailed off.
I don't know either, YS.
I walked in silence for what seemed like hours. Can you call me tomorrow? I finally managed. Sure.
Then, talk to you tomorrow.
Bye.
I hung up. It was better this way, and this was a real test. If he called me, it would mean something. If he didn't, well then maybe I could finally start truly moving forward.
Over the next few weeks, I had thrown myself into research. I hadn't had time to worry about any men. I hadn't gone out much, except for the odd coffee at MS coffee' shop to catch up and take a break. It was good timing however. It was nice to be able to step outside of myself and not think about myself in a personal way, but professionally. I got information about Master's degrees in general and decided on a subject. That took an entire weekend. Then, once I had decided on a subject, I looked for information about specific programs, and decided on six that I would apply for. There goes another weekend. Then, I spent another two weeks or so getting my application together and submitting them to the different schools. By that point, we were nearing the end of February and I was nearing the end of my contract. It was still going to be another month of two until I heard back about my programs. The busy season at BYO English was over (universities resumed in March, so those who spent their holidays studying were back to school), and I was now faced with a what next? type of