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It had finally happened, I had reached my breaking point. After months of loneliness, useless hope and holing myself up in my bedroom, I had reached my end. He was never coming back.
That such an angel could be taken so soon. That my life could be cast so abruptly into darkness, my own personal brand of sunlight no longer around to shine. That I would forever be missing my second half, the one who knew me fully and never judged any of it; now nothing but a permanent hole in my life.
He had always been small and thin, due to the constant stress of our jobs, so we just assumed everything was okay, but he slowly worsened. Vomiting, trouble sleeping, no appetite. We went to the doctors, thinking it was nothing, when the worst of all news came back. The bitch called cancer had come calling and the results did not look pretty.
“It’s okay Yoongi, we’ll get through this like we always do … together,” he said as he snuggled into my shoulder after the doctors trip.
Still we hoped, we went about living our normal lives, with just the small change of weekly doctor visits, waiting for the change that we were all hoping for…
It didn’t come ...
Instead hell decided to rain upon us. It tore us away from each other, ripping apart what happiness we had found. He passed away in his sleep, and all that I can hope for these days was that it was peaceful.
Our group of friends and family tried to help me and pull me out of my funk, but without him, it would always be impossible. Happiness was foreign to me now. It was like he’d been more than a person; he’d been part of my body, holding my organs, and without him I could no longer function.
I got up from my bed and crossed the mess that used to be our bedroom to search for what I needed. The large red canister lay in the corner of the room, staring at me calling my name as though it knew what was about to occur. I picked it up, mind made up. I couldn’t be without him any longer.
I tipped it and the liquid spilled all over our room, not even noticing the strong smell of gasoline over the firm grip of my resolve.
After 10 minutes, the canister was eventually empty, the room drenched, and I was ready.
I grabbed our favourite picture of us, our one year anniversary. The picture was as cheesy as you could get, a selca taken as we kissed, but it was one of the most amazing moments in my life.
I clutched the picture to my chest and grabbed the pocket lighter that had been resting on my bed side table. It was time.
I flicked the lighter alive and let it go, dropping to floor, almost instantly reacting with the gasoline covering the room.
I walked towards our bed, and clutched his pillow - still faintly smelling of him - to my chest and glanced at the picture. Closing my eyes I started to lose myself in the immense heat of the fire. And when I felt myself getting drowsier, smoke starting to clog my lungs, I thought of only him. As I slipped out of consciousness, I whispered my final words, hoping to see him soon.
I love you Jimin.