hiraeth | woosan

Wherever

"So tell me, San. How's your day so far?"

"I woke up at six am."

"Did you have any particular event early in the morning?"

"No, it's just how I'm used to."

"Go on."

"I've bought two croissants but could only finish one. And at nine, Yeosang texted me to meet up so I went to The Kim's and had a chat with him, and now I'm here."

He's been here for the past six months. An office, or a counselling room that doesn't give off the business vibe, carefully designed with wooden touches in the interior of the room with books on shelves, a bouquet in a vase, some miniature figurines, and framed paintings on a wall. A medium sized window in between olive curtains faces the west, and it draws in a warm afternoon light, shadowing the glass plate on the wooden desk that reads 'Counsellor Park Seonghwa'. Seonghwa has told him to make himself comfortable, but since day one, San has accustomed to sit on the left side of the couch near bookshelves, leaving plenty of space beside him, while Seonghwa sits facing him in his rotating chair. His chair rotates, but in any session, Seonghwa has never looked away from San.

San thinks Seonghwa is good at his job, as Yeosang suggested. He listens while never failing to wear that compassionate face, and San believes he means it. No matter how deep one digged in those dark brown eyes, they'd probably only find the same shade of sympathy—or maybe even deeper. San feels guilty. Because he must be his biggest failure, and that fault is entirely on San's part and not his.

"The Kim's! Have you tried their famous pound cakes?"

"No, I always get iced americano and chocolate chip cookies."

"Oh, but the cakes are good too! Maybe next time."

"No...well, yeah, maybe."

Seonghwa gives a small smile, genuine, but it makes San recoil. It's guilt, probably.

"Okay, San, I was thinking we could try something new today," he says. "A role-play."

"A role-play?" San reiterates, and Seonghwa gives a nod.

"I think the part of the reason you find it hard to move forward, is because you have unresolved matters with Wooyoung."

His chest pricks, every time he hears the name, and he's been used to it.

"It so happened that you lost him as soon as you moved in with him and...you once told me you two have talked about your future onwards," Seonghwa continues, his voice heavy. He is compassionate, maybe more so than his job requires. "And role-play is a good way to let that feeling out."

"You mean...like I'm going to be me and you're going to play Wooyoung?"

This time, Seonghwa shakes his head. "No, the one who knows him the most is you, San. No one can come close to him more than you can."

"Which means?"

"You are going to be both. You will visualise him, and talk to him, and answer like he would."

San feels puzzled. It sounds ridiculous, and he doesn't see it working like any other therapeutic work he had done in the past sessions.

"I...I don't know," San murmurs.

"San," he leans forward slightly, on his rotating chair. "I hope we both still agree that the accident was not your fault. It was a tragic, tragic car accident, and you, by no means have anything to do with it."

San stares back at Seonghwa, his eyes have the hue of deep sympathy, but he believes he looks back at him in blank, hollow eyes.

Since the day he had rushed to the hospital, holding Wooyoung's bloody hands, no, since the moment he had received the call with the news to rip his heart, his mind was plagued with 'why' and 'what if's. He knew for a fact that it was the drunk careless driver's fault, but life was made of choices, and San couldn't help but think.