Work Text:
I
Naega. Wǒ. Io. Saya. I.
There isn’t much to say about me. I’m just a simple 25 year old girl. I love singing, and music in general. I’m a doctor by profession, but I always thought I should’ve been a Mathematics teacher. Maths and I loved each other so much.
Do take note of the sarcasm.
I’m quite a boring person, if I could say so myself. I have a standard routine which I stuck to like a koala to its tree, save for the emergency cases where my timetable would be messed up for a bit. Wake up at half past 6, get ready for work and stop by at my favourite café for a quick bite and a takeaway cup of steaming hot hazelnut latte. Work starts promptly at 8. Once work was over, grab something light for dinner at any nearby take away restaurant or, if I had the mood and means, head straight home to whip up a delicious meal for my sole indulgence.
That is really it, when it came to me. I don’t have much of a social life. Occasionally, my friends from high school and college would call for a drink or two, sometimes dinner, and maybe even a small get together, but aside from those, I didn’t go out much. I didn’t have a lover or significant other, nor do I have any past experience to speak of.
Simply put, I am a boring, not-so-old workaholic with no social life whatsoever.
Love
Sarang. Ài. Amore. Cinta. Love.
There is a lot to say about love. Love is an emotion that can be said to be as simple as ABC, or as complex as a Gordion knot. Love is just a single feeling, and yet it consists of so many elements at the same time.
People say that when you find your true love, you’ll feel butterflies in your tummy. The anxious feeling – the need to please. You won’t be able to take your eyes off that person and your mind will always be with them. They say that love is a powerful thing.
Some say love makes you strong, gives you the courage to do things you’d never have done before. Love can take you to greater heights, can make you see things you wouldn’t have seen otherwise.
However, like anything that can be powerful enough to build a person up, love also has the power to destroy someone as well.
Some say that love can crush you. Love could make you lose yourself and everything that ever made you, well, you. They say that once you’ve fallen too deep, you won’t be able to pull yourself out. You’ll be stuck in that deep pit for the rest of eternity because love isn’t something you could get over easily.
Yet, love is still described as a wonderful feeling. True love is a joy that not many can, with no hesitation, say that they’ve experienced.
But to someone who has never felt this before, what exactly is love? Should one be afraid? Should they be happy? How would they know if what they feel is love?
That seems like a dilemma many face. And it would so happen that I am but one of those confused souls.
You
Neo. Nǐ. Tu. Kamu. You.
Simple words can never describe you. You are by far, a much more interesting person than I think I’ll ever be. You are one of a kind. Obnoxiously loud at times and soothingly soft at others, you bring joy to many around you.
Like me, you are a doctor. A gerontologist, to be exact. You work with the elderly, and I can totally understand why. When you smile, the room lights up like a thousand light bulbs. Your patience is greater than mountains; your heart, bigger than the universe. It holds so much love and everyone can feel the warmth you emanate when you care for your patients, when you help them with that radiant smile on your face.
I met you, ironically, not at the hospital where we work at, but at the café that I went to every morning. It was probably your first time there. It took you a long time to decide what you wanted and I was running late for an appointment.
Our first meeting wasn’t pleasant. If half of what people said were true, I should have melted right there and then when I saw your puzzled face stare up at the chalkboard menu. I didn’t, of course. I was pissed, and rightfully so. You had been holding up the line and all I wanted was my latte and a bagel before I had to tackle the headache that was the large pile of paperwork that was waiting for me on my desk. I didn’t even know that we worked in the same hospital until I met you again, under similar circumstances.
This time, we met at a vending machine. Like before, you were deciding on the drink you wanted and, yet again, I was waiting for my turn. I remember tapping on your shoulder and recommending the espresso that I usually bought. I remember your flushed face when you realised that you had been holding the line for quite a while. Apparently, you were unaware of the few people who had, like me, been on their way to get their daily (or in my case, twice daily) dose of caffeine.
As fate decreed, we met yet again at the cafeteria during lunchtime a few days later. We sat down together and chatted throughout lunch hour. I found out that you liked pink a lot, and I remember thinking to myself that it was rather apparent from your pink phone, pink bag and various other pink accessories. You studied in the States and had been brought up there, only leaving the country after your mother passed away. It wasn’t a very long lunch time, but I had learnt so much about you.
A short snippet to sum it all up: you, Tiffany Hwang, are a pink obsessed social butterfly with a loud voice and an equally loud personality. And yet, there isn’t a single thing I would change about you.
I Love You
Saranghaeyo. Wǒ ài nǐ. Ti Amo. Saya cintamu. Ich liebe dich. Je t’aime. Mahal kita. Ya Tebya Lyublyu.
I love you.
I can say this in a thousand languages and I still will not be able to express how much I love you. It’s true. As cheesy as that may sound, you are the love of my life. You are the straw to my berry, the apple of my eye. You are the first girl I looked at and the last I’ll ever want to see. You’re the first girl I liked and my one last love. You are my first everything, to be honest and I gave you my everything – and I don’t regret it one bit.
Having lunch together became a frequent affair, and soon, dinner was our time too. We went for friendly dates, then, when I had the courage to, I asked you out and it became actual dates. You moved in, not long after and breakfast became a shared meal too.
Meals weren’t the only things we had together. We would talk for longs hours, telling each other stories from our vastly different childhoods, talking about the patients we had to face for the day. We told each other our problems and helped each other solve them.
It hit me hard, the first time we fought. It was about something really stupid but when we left each other for work that morning, an unsettled feeling gnawed at me. I hated disappointing you and I was scared that you would walk out on me, just like that. I had fallen for you. And I fell hard. I spent the rest of the day arranging a romantic, candlelit dinner for us, taking the effort to make your favourite dishes. We made up, and I’d like to say that we’ve gotten a lot closer since that incident.
“Tell the world how much you love me.” You whispered to me. We were unwinding at the rooftop of the hospital.
I think you were expecting me to shout, to yell to the whole world, declaring my undying love for you.
“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.” I whispered it in your ear and you looked at me, thoroughly confused.
Because you were my world. And you were the only who absolutely had to know the answer to that question.
I Love You.
To be honest, it doesn’t get much simpler than that.
Oh, and baby, will you marry me?