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Words that seem awfully a lot like promises you aren’t going to keep slip out of your mouth. I like the way they sound, so I act as if I believe you. When you talk about us spending the rest of lives together, I really wish we could.
You’re expected to get married in a few years. You want to do it too, I know that, but I’m still sticking with you. I’m trying, even though it’s clear we have no future.
I get sad when I remember that one day you’re going to come to my apartment with pity present in your eyes and you'll tell me it’s over. My heart and head hurt. You’re all I want but I can’t say it’s the same for you.
Laying on your bed with your arms tightly around my body feels nice. Before I even realize, it’s time for you to go; you have work to go to and a character to uphold.
“Tony,” I say, “I love you.”
You smile while putting your coat on. I feel like you’re choking me. “Bye, Jaeduck.”
Because we aren’t supposed to be a thing in the first place, no one even thinks of it as an option.
We’re at your mum's place for dinner. Endless talk about how you should get a girlfriend, you’re thirty years old after all, is getting on my nerves. I’m so irritated I can't even think properly.
I’m trying to come up with excuses I could use to get out of here. Your mum seems oblivious to my annoyance and yours too. You’re bitterly smiling and I almost laugh. You’re too much of a coward to come out.
“We should probably get going, Tony,” I interrupt, “we made plans with Suwon.” I don’t want to listen to this anymore.
“Ah, right, I forgot.”
I apologize for having us leave so early. You hug her and we leave.
“You're really something,” I tell you once we’re sitting in the car. As you continue to stay quiet, I can feel myself getting pissed. I want us to work, yet you don’t seem to be trying.
You come over sometime next week. You’re angry, I can see your teeth clenching. I’m not sure if I should ask you what’s wrong; you end up telling me anyways.
Your mum set you up with her friend’s daughter and you don’t want to go. You want me to find something you can lie about so you can get out of it. I act dumb and say I can’t help you. I don’t know.
That night, your kisses feel weird. You’re urgent and at the same time, it’s like you’re kissing me for the last time. As the time goes on, I crave more and more yet instead it feels like you’re just getting further and further away.
I’m scared of losing you.
I think we should talk about it. I don’t say anything.
In all these years we’ve known each other, I have never seen you cry. So, when I see tears dripping down your chin, I can’t think, I can’t do anything to help you. My chest hurts.
“Are you okay?” I ask, despite knowing you aren’t. You laugh, at me probably before grimacing -- is that supposed to be a smile?
“Yeah, sure,” you say.
Like an idiot I am, I just stand there. You’re sitting on the couch, tears drenching your shirt, snot running down your face and I’m looking at you. I’m waiting for you to stop, I want you to tell me what’s wrong, I want to help you.
I’m here for you. Those words stay stuck in my throat.
“I’m so scared of disappointing people,” you whisper to me.
We’re laying in bed, our clothes on the floor with only the duvet covering our bodies.
“You, my mum. Everyone.” As you scoff, you turn to me and put your arm around my stomach. I press my lips against your forehead. (I’m scared what you’re going to say next.)
“I want to tell her. That I’m gay. Tomorrow, maybe.”
Slowly, you fall asleep and I stare at the dark ceiling. I know you won’t have it as easy as I did.
“Did you tell her?” You’re in a bad mood and I’m guessing.
“No,” you reply, coldness present in your tone and your face. I pretend I don’t care, that your attitude isn’t hurting my feelings. I wasn’t the one to hurt you, so why are you acting like this?
“Just do it when you’re ready,” I say and pat your shoulder. I’m here for you. Always.
“Yeah.”
I can’t breathe. I’m about to explode, I’m sad, I’m angry. Why are you doing this to me?
You’re kissing someone -- a girl, is it the one you went on a blind date with? So many thoughts are going through my head, but I can’t focus, I can’t breathe--
You’re smiling now, holding her hand. You’re taking her to some restaurant. You’re taking her on a date, that’s something you’ve never been able to do with me. I can’t tell if this is some weird way of you getting back at me for something, because everything just hurts.
I know I should just leave, I can’t stop watching you through. Are you happy?
She’s pretty.
I want to hear the truth from you. I turn around and go home.
(I go take a shower. I stand there and suddenly, I don’t feel anything anymore.)
“Can we talk?” I say over the phone. I haven’t seen you in three days. I know you’re avoiding me and I can’t just let it go.
I vaguely hear you say you’re busy with work right now. “Come over for dinner. I need to talk to you.” I take a deep breath. It’s over for us.
It all feels like a really weird dream. Me telling you I saw you, that I want the truth and then you saying you want to break it off. That you don’t want to be a disappointment anymore, that you’re going to marry her.
It hurts my pride, but I hope it works out for you.
Once you leave, I start sobbing. I’ve never cried over a break-up before. Everything is a first at one point, though.
Pathetically, I already miss you. As I lay in bed, I wish things worked out for us. I wish you’d be realistic with yourself -- how are you going to spend all your life pretending you’re into women?
And again, everything just hurts. Thinking about you, not thinking about you.
Because I loved you as much as I did, I’m not sure how I’ll find someone else.
Months pass before we talk again. You call me one night, drunk out of your mind.
“I know I fucked up.” But you aren’t sorry. You don’t want to go back, because you’d rather lie to everyone, including yourself. “I’m getting married. In three months.”
I almost hang up. I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to listen to you.
“I want you to be there. Please.”
I stay quiet the entire time.
“I love you.” My heart stops. Fuck.
I never thought I was going to actually end up going to your wedding. I haven’t seen you in so long. I miss you, I would love to wrap my arms around you and kiss you. But instead, I’m watching someone else do that for me.
“Hey, Tony,” I say, “congratulations.” You’re smiling. I like seeing you like that.
“I’m sorry,” you say in return and I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry.”
You put your arm around my shoulders. Is it really going to be like this now? Have I lost you forever?
I should’ve known it was going to be like this -- you having a fight with your wife, crawling back into my apartment, begging for something, anything and all I can do is stare at you.
It’s not like I’m known for my willpower though.
When we’re laying in bed, I kiss you. After what it seemed like forever, we kiss again. I missed you, the feeling of your body against mine.
“Is this how it’s gonna be?” I ask, my hand down your pants.
You’re confused, you’re not sure what you’re even doing. You know, it’s hard for me too. “I’m sorry.”
Once again, I swallow my pride for you. I kiss you again and again, because it’s what I want. I don’t think about what’s going to happen tomorrow. I don’t think about the regret you’ll probably feel the next day.
“Jaeduck, I love you.”
You’ve been saying that a lot lately.
I’m waiting for you.
Please stop making me wait.