Chapter Text
I wonder
I wonder how someone can be as enormous as the sun. Not the world. but the sun. The one who revolves around, who illuminates light, who can kill through her mere disappearance.
I wonder
I wonder how she can smile brighter than the moon. Not the stars. But the moon. She's there every night, every darkness and every storm. She never fades.
I wonder
I wonder why her hands are as soft as daffodils. Not the rose. But daffodils. Why she radiates beginnings. Why she blooms every spring but her touch lasts until winter.
I wonder
I wonder how suddenly she is no longer as bright as the sun, as sparkling as the moon, as soft as daffodils. I wonder where did everything go wrong?
I wonder if the world is coming to an end. If she'll die along with the sun or vanish together with the moon. I still wonder if she'll wither and never come back.
But then I realized... the sun never withdraws, the moon never wanes, the daffodil never wilts. It's me that changed. I never want to hurt my eyes from the brightness of the sun or the splendidness of the moon because it's too good to feel warm.. to feel at peace.
To feel everything just for myself.. To just watch how dusk turns to dawn without her because all of it is her. I don't deserve even a piece of her. I am no one.
It’s been 48 days since I last saw her smile. Since I last saw her close the door in my apartment. She didn’t even stomp her feet or sigh irritably when I told her that we should probably end things. I got slightly offended that she doesn’t look in pain, it’s not that I want her to be hurt, it’s just that I want to see that she actually cares. She is still perfect even if things didn’t go as planned. She is Ko Munyeong, the star, the sun, and the daffodil. She is the celestial body hanging above, the ball of light and heat revolving, the petals and buds of every daffodil. She is the universe.. once mine.
It all started nicely. She is beautiful, kind, smart, optimistic. She is the combination of every perfect woman I’ve dated. She started as a new artist, her hands are magical. In just a stroke she can create an extraordinary piece. At the beginning, no one appreciates how extremely skillful, creative and imaginative she is. She would knock on my door in the middle of the night with sorrow in her eyes. It was always news of rejection, despair and regret.
Nevertheless, she’s a tough one. She doesn’t give up that easily. She walks gracefully during art presentations, museum tours, and job applications.
Until everyone started to turn their heads towards her direction. She shines. Brighter than any diamonds or jewelries. Soon she was branded as one of the new generation artists. I’m proud. Of what she is. How she is.
But she’s too… wonderful. She’s filled with unimaginable.. almost impossible dreams for us. I am no one. I’m just a regular office boy who grabs a cup of coffee for everyone. Who doesn’t have a sports car, a huge mansion, people who take photos of my work. I am no one
And she is the sun, the moon and the daffodil.
She didn’t make me feel that I am below her. Or that I am just a simple man who doesn’t even know how to wear his tie. She is the epitome of a perfect partner. She makes time. Too much of it. She decided to move in with me. Her studio was located in our old garage. My garage. It’s rubbish. Needed a lot of decorating and stuff but she made it work. She is resourceful.
I sometimes hear her sing while she paints. She is a ball of sunshine. As if she will never run out of stories to transform into colors. As if she can make it on her own. Without me.. without me as an inspiration. She still cooked. A lot. She watched tutorials on how until she started to master it too. She’s amazing.
She got bigger in the industry she’s in. She got calls outside the country. Asking for her work. She’s mostly out of town. Yet she didn’t fail to make time, to cook for my meals, to fix my tie, and to listen to how my day went by. She can multitask effortlessly, gracefully.
She’s everything. I am nothing.
And so I decided to end things because she’s too good. Too warm. Too perfect. Is it the right thing to do? The right path? I don’t know anymore. I just know that she changed.
She still flourished. She’s better. It seems like she didn’t even shed a tear. She didn’t even hide from the dark. She remains untouchable, unreachable. I can only look at how she’s growing.. she probably changed.
But then one day as I woke up I realized that she’s not the one who changed… I am. I should have clap for her, cheer for her, shout her name proudly but I didn’t.. I chose to throw her away, to get rid of the only bright thing in my life, to pick up the only flower in my garden, to never look up at my only guide, only light as I walk home.
I wish to go back in time. To see my sun, my moon and my daffodil