dreamglow

24

Jungkook

March 22, 2019

Dead silence in the dining room matches my mood on this fine, Friday night. My eyes lose focus every two minutes as I mindlessly try to push the fried rice down my throat. It's good, but my appetite has been gone since last week. I get nauseous almost every day now and the thought of food makes it worse. Dealing with stress is not my forte.

My dad spares glances at me from time to time, like he wants to say something, but stays silent. He barely talks to me at this point. My mom acts like nothing has ever happened. It must be easy, finally having things her way.

"Can you do me a favor, son?" she asks. I take the opportunity to put the fork down and grab a glass with water.

"What favor?" I ask, even though I don't want to do anything for her. If before we were distant, now we are strangers under one roof.

"Me and your dad are going to our friend's wedding tomorrow, and I ordered flowers, but I can't pick them up. Can you do it? Tomorrow morning?"

"I guess I can." I sigh, trying to ignore the fact that flowers remind me of her and nothing else. "Where is it?"

"I have an order card. I will leave it in the kitchen in the morning. It's not far."

"Okay," I mumble, scrambling to my feet.

"Are you done?" my dad finally regains his voice.

"I'm tired. I'll go to sleep early. Thanks for dinner."

Before they can catch me, I drag myself out of the room. One word was enough to make my legs weak all over again. It had to be flowers, out of everything I could pick up from a store.

Before my thoughts take over, and before I can burst into tears, I force myself to sleep. I either sleep, study or try to eat something these days. But it's the easiest way to get by while I wait for everything to get better.

If it ever will.

March 23, 2019

The house is empty when I have to leave. My mom is getting her hair done, or whatever, and my dad is at work. I drink a pot of water, my throat sand-dry. I've slept for thirteen hours and it didn't help with anything. My body feels bruised all over, and mustering a bit of energy is a challenge for me.

I fold the paper with the address in the pocket of my jeans. There's still a tone of studying waiting for me at my desk, and picking up those flowers is the least convenient thing in my schedule. But saying 'no' would equal a fight, and I want to avoid drama at all cost, especially now in this house. I simply don't feel like fighting. I would probably burst into tears the moment I would open my mouth, so it would be no use anyways.

The morning is warm and refreshing as I zip my spring jacket open. For the first time I don't feel like a chewed piece of gum. Maybe I should have stepped out of my room earlier. I know it will all go down the drain when I smell the flowers, but for now I am enjoying a bit of Sun on my skin.

It's my first time in this area, but the flower shop is the only baby blue building among the other grey and brown ones. It has pink flowers along the three-level white staircase, and a few green plants hanging on the sides of a square window. It's so pretty my lips curve, but it's not yet a smile. I don't think I have smiled in the past three weeks. If I did, it was unconscious.

The bell rings above my head as I walk in. Sweet smell of flowers clenches my heart, like I expected. I stand at the counter. The faster I get out of here, the better.

A few moments pass and the owner leaves the supply room. A shock waves go through my body and punches me in the face when our eyes meet. My mom did not ask me to pick up flowers from Cindy's store-

It's the longest thirty seconds of my life, and I don't want them to end. No matter how much it feels like my heart it about to burst, I haven't felt more alive in the past three weeks.

"I... I have to... pick this up." I slide the order card across the counter, but I can't take my eyes off of her. She grabs the card, but keeps looking at me, and I can't breathe.

Cindy lets out a shattering sigh and nods. "Sure." With a small cough she disappears in the supply room again. I clench my fists and jaw until it hurts and leaves me dizzy. It hurts already, from within, and no physical pain can outweigh what my hear it going trough.

I tremble when she comes back. A bouquet of white and purple roses lies between us. I grab it, but my feet are planted to the ground. I can't move a muscle. No matter how hard I try, my body doesn't want to listen.

"Thanks," I mumble.

She looks down, fidgeting with her palms. "No problem."

Silence fills the room. I clutch onto the flowers as I try to force myself to do something, anything.

She is quicker to speak. "How are you doing?" Her voice is small, like it's not her. She glances at me for a second, and catches me looking at her all the time.

"I'm... fine," I choke out, sounding as unconvincing as possible. I'm not fine. Not without you. "How about you?"

"Okay." She nods.

My body gets heavier and no amount of breathing is helping. Right now, when it's me and her again after three weeks, the truth spills over my head like ice-cold water. No matter how many things would fall apart, it never hurt that much when she was with me. When I was succeeding, she was laughing with me. When I was failing, she was there, too.

And even if I was failing, I was fucking happy. The six months with her were a taste of heaven, and I don't know how I can leave it all behind. Seeing her is a punch I needed. A jaw-breaking hook that makes me realize how dark and hopeless my life is becoming. Again.

"I'll... get going," I mumble. She nods again, and lets out a breathy sigh. My legs are lead-heavy as I pull them to the door, and, with hesitating twice at the door only to curse at myself, leave the store.

I drag myself home, with a stream of thoughts whirling in my head. I barely even tried. I barely tried and I already gave up, just because I didn't see the road ahead. I didn't win, and I didn't lose. I haven't even tried.

But I gave up on everything that was important to me. On music, on myself, on my happiness, and on her. Everything I love, I pushed away. Because I was fucking scared.

Now the idea of never gaining it back terrifies me more than failure. I tasted heaven, and now I'm tasting hell, and I'm not sure how long I can live off of this poison.

When I reach my house, no one is in so I drop the flowers off and leave. I leave as fast as I can. Everything is falling, but it's not fallen, and I am the only one that can fix it. I am the only one in charge of my life, and my happiness.