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It was cold.
He wished he had thought about bringing gloves, or at least a beanie to keep his ears warm. The thin material of the worn out jacket was doing shit at keeping him warm. The tip of his nose felt cold, and his fingers felt numb. It was a nice sensation, different from the numbness he was accustomed to.
Jeongguk knew he could have avoided this; by taking the long way home, by opting to take a train, or hailing a cab. Hell had he wanted to, he could have driven himself home. Except he didn't intend to go home, at least not yet.
He found no peace in the noise. Everything sounded too loud, too alive. He needed silence because his thoughts could be deafening. So he avoided the busy streets, populous places, and opted for the empty ones. There he could find a sense of quiet, and he could breathe without feeling asphyxiated by his own anxious heart.
He was far from home and he knew it; he knew exactly where he was headed to. He trusted his feet to lead him down the path he had committed to memory.
He didn't have it in him not to walk by in hopes of seeing the older man. Although he knew he wouldn't.
He knew that would never happen, but he couldn't let go of the unreal hope that had made a home inside him. It lived within him, only for it to be chased out by a heart wrenching ache that overtook his body. It happened to him on whiskey filled nights where he felt too much. On those nights he hurt so much it pained him to breathe and his thoughts were raucous.
He knew why he was going there and it made him anxious. As much as he didn't want to do this, he had to. He had to be selfish for once. He knew it’s what he would have wanted him to do. It didn't lessen the anxiety that puddled in his heart or the heartache that Jeongguk had become attached to. It took everything inside him not to turn around or fasten his pace and go home. He had to do this for both of them, for himself .
It had been 3 years.
Three years and it still pained him as much as it had when he found out.
Three years and he still clung to the hope of the raspy voice saying, “Hey Jeongguk, give me a light.”
He saw him in his dreams sometimes, but his image was muddled with what his brain remembered the man looked like and what the few badly angled, blurry pictures Jeongguk had told his brain he had looked like. In Jeongguk’s dreams, Yoongi looked happy, the dark circles that had adorned his eyes the last time Jeongguk saw him alive, were gone. They were replaced by the rare gummy smile that had been absent for a small eternity.
Sometimes in Jeongguk’s dream Yoongi was playing the piano. Except all he heard was an empty, monotonous sound, because the muted melody he knew by heart never really existed. He had committed this dream to memory, he knew what keys Yoongi would play, knew when he would tilt his head, and when the song was coming to an end. He often woke up crying, feeling frustrated and restless and unable to fall back asleep.
In another reoccurring dream of his, they sat under a tree where Yoongi would smoke cigarettes, and they enjoyed the quiet of the night. But they all ended the same way. Yoongi would frown, get up and walk away, and Jeongguk never did anything to stop him, because he didn't know how to.
He knew it was a manifestation of the helplessness he felt when the older man got further and further addicted to the drugs that had in the end, taken his life. He knew the man wouldn't want Jeongguk to blame himself, but he couldn't help it. He knew he was partly to blame, at least in his mind he was. If only he had done more, if only he had tried harder, then maybe, just maybe the elder would be alive. He knew deep down other people blamed him as well, they never voiced it but the way they stared at him, like angry monsters, said it all.
In fact, he didn't make it past the beginning of the service arranged by his family. He knew Yoongi was probably rolling his eyes wherever he was. It was too traditional, and Yoongi would have hated it. He wanted something simple, something quiet. Jeongguk knew because his last few months with the man had consisted of Yoongi talking about how he wanted his funeral to be. Almost as if he knew his time was coming, as if he was trying to send Jeongguk a message.
He had always joked about being psychic, maybe Jeongguk should have believed him.
Jeongguk slowed his walking as he saw he was close to his destination. After the short eternity it took him to walk, he came to a stop in front of the church. He drew a deep breath before walking inside. He lit a candle and sat in the pew closest to the door.
Neither of them had been religious despite coming from religious families. They did, however, believe that there was something beyond death, that you went somewhere and that you continued to exist. Yoongi had been quite insightful when it came to things that interested him, or things he had an opinion on. He was a storm; quiet, loud, dark, powerful, beautiful. He was a storm and Jeongguk never did mind getting wrecked by him.
Jeongguk had admired that about him. He still did.
“Hello…” he whispered quietly, like a silent prayer he wanted no one else to hear. Although he was the only one in the church, he couldn't bring himself to speak louder. What he wanted to say felt like a secret. A secret he could only share with Yoongi, it felt wrong to talk loudly.
The windows in the church let in the light of the cloudy, yet sunny day. It looked smaller than he remembered it being, yet it was huge, too big for him alone. He pulled down the kneeler and sunk down on his knees. He took a deep breath and lifted his head up the slightest bit before continuing.
“I’m sorry I haven't been coming by as much as I used to, it's… it’s been hard. I mean, it’s still hard and it's been three years but it doesn't hurt any less. You were so fucking selfish you know? To just leave like that, no explanation, no reason. I think you had one, I wish I knew. Or maybe it's better that I don't, who knows. I suppose you would.” He looked around the church, wrung his hands as if it would ease the heartache, and make this just a bit easier. He put his hands on the worn out bench in front of him to ground himself, to keep himself there.
“I don't blame you entirely, but I do to a certain extent. I know that sounds a little complicated, but I know you understand what I mean. You always did. You were always a bit complex yourself, I never did figure you out.” he chuckled humorlessly.
“I didn't become a photographer. I… I-I’m kind of a big deal. I’m sure you know. I think it would have been cool for you to have produced a song for me to sing. I think we would have made a perfect team, perhaps in an alternate universe we are. A-And, I made new friends. I think you would have liked them, especially the older ones. They treat me well, they take me out to get drinks, to eat, sometimes they take me to explore. Ah, but don't get jealous hyung, you're still… still my best friend.” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat and continued.
“Are you in heaven? That's where I picture you, in heaven smoking a cigarette, maybe bumming a light out of one of the angels, or a cigarette from a saint. I hope you're happy, singing off key, laughing at the fact your voice cracks when you try to hit high notes, smiling that smile I dream of too often, but don't quite remember anymore. You know you meant a whole lot to me. You still do, you always will, you were a big part of my life growing up, that will never go away. You shaped me, taught me to go for what I wanted, because a missed opportunity is just as bad as never trying at all,” Jeongguk smiled. He felt tears pricking his eyes, yet he did nothing to wipe them. There was no point in doing so, he needed to let it all out.
“I don't dream about you as often as I used to, I think that's me moving on. I feel relieved, and it scares me. I don't want to forget about you. I'm scared that one day I will, but I know you wont be mad at me if I do move on. You would have wanted me to, but I don't think I have it in me to do so. I come here and see things that remind me of you. I see you in a lot of things. People like you leave their mark on people like me, and it's hard to forget people who meant so much to you. At least I know for me it's like that.” The night was falling, and the day's light was beginning to fade.
For some unknown reason, it reminded Jeongguk of sitting in this church in his youth, waiting for the service to be over so he could go home and over to his neighbor’s house, a boy the same age as him whose name he couldn't remember now. The same boy who would later move out and for the house to be moved into four years later. Then he would meet Yoongi, who approached him with a set of cards and an unsure smile. The boy who shyly asked if he wanted to play and be his friend.
“Although I don't quite remember the timbre of your voice anymore, or how your laugh sounded like, I feel like you try to talk to me. Like yesterday while I was stressing out, I could imagine you calling me a brat and telling me to calm down and take a breather. I see you in everyday things, I see things and think of how much you would have liked or disliked them. I know you were never scared of dying, you were always scared of disappointing people, not being enough. You were enough, you were more than enough. You were you, and that was enough… I should have told you so.” He suddenly didn't know where to look, for a second Jeongguk felt lost. He was there, yet it felt strange almost as if he was in a dream and not really there.
“I know… I know I didn't try enough to stop you. You stopped coming around and I didn't want to burden you, when you came back to me you were… you weren't you anymore. The you I knew was gone, I don't know what led you to make the decisions you made. To look for those men who were monsters, giving you what you wanted with the cost of signing your life over to them, to the addiction. You must have felt lost. I felt like you were always living life so fast, and… and you spiraled out of control. You spiraled and you didn't know how to get back in control… and then you just, you let go didn't you?” He found it hard to breathe with the pain in him. He breathed in and out, and he looked back up.
“I was stupid thinking you would come back and everything would be alright, but you never did… I wish I had been there to ground you, to hold you down the best I could have. To have soothed your pain, and helped you to get help. I’m so sorry. I was stupid, I wish I could go back and tell myself to go help you. To keep you close, never let you leave in the first place and save you. But you never intended to be saved did you?” He chuckled quietly.
“I just wish I understood, I wish I knew. I wish I had been there for you, I’m sorry I wasn't. All this wishing isn't gonna bring you back, no matter how hard I wish or how many times I wish for you to come back to me. I do love you. I think I always did, and I think you knew. I think you loved me in your own way too… Maybe if I had told you, it would have made a difference. Maybe not.” His voice cracked, he rested his head on his hands, the strength of his knees giving in for a brief second.
He was suddenly 12 again, reading comics under the tree that split his and Yoongi's backyards. He knew if he looked over, the older boy would have his eyes closed. Jeongguk knew Yoongi wasn't sleeping, just resting his eyes. He knew if he stared long enough Yoongi would open his eyes with a soft smile and say, “Stop looking at me, I can't sleep with you watching.” He was at church, but at the same time he was never truly there. Instead he existed in another time, in another space, under that tree with Yoongi by his side. The way it had been, the way one day it would be again.
“Please don't get mad at me if I don't come as often, or if I stop coming around. It still hurts. I don't feel at ease because I don't know why . I wish I knew why . It might haunt me forever or drive me mad if I keep coming and asking for answers I won't get, so please forgive me, please. I'll still light a candle at every church or cathedral I pass by in your memory, to keep you with me and to remember you. I won't forget you. How could I? You were such a big part of my life. I'd have to suffer amnesia to forget you. I’ll come back to you, I promise, I just need time.” Time would pass quickly, yet achingly slow, but it would do him some good.
“Y’know Holly still waits for you to come. He's tired, he's sad, he misses you. I miss you too, so much it pains me. I know you understand me. So I can leave feeling a bit at ease. I hope you found peace from whatever drove you to… to be gone. I miss you… I'll come back, I don't know when but I’ll come back, I promise. You’ll be okay won't you? You will, you were always so strong, so I know you will. I'll be okay too. .” Jeongguk dragged his hand across his face to wipe the tears that had fallen.
He closed his eyes for a second and he was under the tree again. He looked over and saw Yoongi smiling at him. His eyes were warm and soft, the way they always were when he looked at Jeongguk. Almost as if he was saying yes, we’ll be alright. Jeongguk smiled back, this time he was the one who got up. “I'll see you again, won't I?” Yoongi nodded once, and Jeongguk smiled. “Okay.”
He stood, bidding a silent goodbye to Yoongi. He bowed his head in respect for the church and turned to leave, he saw the candle he had lit and smiled fondly.
As he stepped outside, a soft sigh left his lips. He felt guilty, yet relieved and empty all together. He chuckled lightly as he walked down the empty road. He fished his lighter out of his pocket and the last cigarette he had sworn to ever smoke. He placed it in his mouth and lit it. The warmth it brought him was temporary, as was the cold of winter that would soon end.
As he finished his cigarette, a small smile came to his lips. He put it out and threw it away in the nearest trash can along with the lighter and kept walking. There was no point in looking back.
As he walked down the familiar yet new path, the night had begun to come upon him. He felt familiar, yet unsure of where this new road would lead, but he wasn't afraid. He took in his surroundings, memorizing them. It was there on the side of the road he saw the first flower of spring.