Love.
It is a beautiful word. One that is spoken so wonderfully about in poems and songs.
It is a beautiful feeling. One that is sparkling in the eyes of couples and is felt through their touches.
But every coin has two sides.
As much happiness at...
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~*~
"When you say that you love me..."
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I couldn't believe myself. What words had I just spouted, albeit in pain and anger? Jungkook didn't deserve that. No one did and yet I had directed my pain and anger towards someone as pure and selfless as Jungkook.
I had called him selfish, but it was the complete opposite wasn't it? Jungkook loved me and somehow I never noticed. And yet despite that, he hid it so well from Tae and I, suffering on his own while we disregarded his emotions. He was as selfless as one can get.
My eyes fall to Tae's gravestone and I can't help the tears that stream down my face. Every morning I awoke thinking it was all a horrible nightmare. That Tae would be beside me, a smile on his lips and love in his eyes.
But then I'd wake. Alone and cold. His love for me forever stripped.
At first I refused to cry. I did not let myself wallow in self-pity and sadness. Instead I worked harder at work and dared not step a foot into our studio. So afraid to see memories that were now shrouded in grief.
However, I finally gathered enough courage to face my nightmare: my reality. And that's how I found myself in the studio today, reading the letter that Yoongi hyung had handed me at the funeral. Earlier today when my world finally came crashing down, reality hitting me in the face and the grief and pain finally being released.
I have been sitting in my room, staring at nothing in particular. It's Saturday, meaning no school. I refuse to look at the empty place beside me. The place that Tae once occupied, but is now left cold. I can't even remember the last time I slept on this bed, preferring the sofa instead.
Absentmindedly my hand traces the embroidered pattern of the comforter. My eyes dart to the unopened envelope resting beside my hand. Addressed to me in familiar handwriting.
I had been standing at the grave, disregarding everyone who came to speak their condolences, eyes trained on the gray marble gravestone. Trying very hard, but unable to erase the words carved into it.
It was when Yoongi had walked up to me that I had finally looked away. Looked to him, seeing how grief shrouded his eyes. I still refused to cry, my mind distant. I could see the worry in Yoongi's eyes when he looked to me, but he hadn't spoken. He had merely held out the envelope to me, myself taking it rather hesitantly, before walking off.
And that's how I found myself here, a month later, the envelope still unopened. My eyes still not having shed a single tear. My mind still lost and unable to accept all that had occurred.
How could I? Taehyung had been my life. Now he was gone and just like that it was as if my life had stopped. So what really was the point of crying and grieving? Of opening a letter from him when it didn't matter anymore?
