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forgot the ways to find you, no sight just blinds my mind, the void controls my life
(VO!D – Hyunjun Hur)
Seungmin is lost, and he told Jeongin more than once, on several different occasions.
The problem isn't believing him, because Seungmin seems to sink into what must be his deepest and most chaotic thoughts much deeper than other people (and, at the same time, much more rarely than many others), as if he was created to hit the bottom of the ocean once every few months and stay there, still, eyes closed and breath held, for so long that fear would remain as the only feeling both in his heart and in the hearts of all those who love him in the present and had loved him in the past. Jeongin believes him, because Jeongin trusts him and has no reason why he shouldn't: he and Seungmin have known each other all their lives, they were friends before they became lovers; they are family before they are two hearts with only one heartbeat.
"I don't know where I am these days." Seungmin whispers in the younger's ear one night —one of those cold, winter's nights which gets warmer as someone takes you in their arms and makes of you the home they will always come back to— after coming home later than usual. Much later than usual.
Jeongin knows there's not someone else in Seungmin's life. God, he has never, not even once, doubted his boyfriend's words, and Seungmin loves him more than everything else. Always will.
This is why, when the mattress moves a little under Seungmin's weight, Jeongin lets himself go and returns to feeling heavy-eyed from sleep. He can't sleep unless the other boy is close to him.
I don't know where you are either, Min.
Jeongin doesn't like to turn his thoughts into real words; not during the night, when everything is supposed to stay still and quiet, let alone during a time neither of them seems to be certain of. Jeongin pretends to be asleep, and perhaps falls into the arms of Morpheus sooner than he would have expected; each gesture from Seungmin causes him to relax more and more. Seungmin is, indeed, his safe place.
Seungmin gently kisses his head, those dark brown curly hair that are so soft under his lips, because he knows Jeongin is not asleep yet and probably has a lot to talk to him about (as well as he knows the other boy won't say anything); he caresses the exposed skin of his right arm, as a way to somehow let Jeongin know he wants to be there for him —he is there for him, despite his occasional silent absence that wears their relationship down from the gut. His body rests against Jeongin's as if the two of them were always meant to be together, and Jeongin can feel the older's light breath on his neck. He would, oh so, love to turn around and drown into the beauty of Seungmin's facial features, but he restrains himself from doing so and simply relax his back against the older's chest, feeling his heartbeat right where he wishes his own heart could shift to.
Silly, young boys living a silly, adult love.
Neither of them moves even a muscle anymore, both too busy taking back what little is left of everything they had in their hands just a while back. Something is still there, and maybe there's hope, but the beginning of the end is now visible to the eyes, and they must convince their two big, beating hearts that everything might not go back to be as it was before: the end could sweep them away soon.
The two of them look, anyway, like a sculpture, the immortalised image of a love that was destined from the beginning and which, from the beginning still, was told that one day there would have been a step backwards to take. They look peaceful, tangled to each other as Seungmin inhales —tries to inhale as much as possible— Jeongin's perfume. He must remember it. He must dream of it someday. They look like they're telling each other, without words, that if they were to die right here and now, they wouldn't mind.
A path of a youth, in which one would jump and the other would follow. No, they would jump together.
"Really, Innie, you have to believe me. Can you say you still love me even though I've lost my way?"
If only Seungmin's voice wasn't always the same, low and calm, ready to make Jeongin melt under his sweet phrases; if only he didn't know how to always use it in his favour, trying to make everything better by simply call him by his nickname; if only Jeongin was able to get out of bed and walk away, at least for once —once, one time that might even turn out to be the first and last. Except he doesn't want to turn his back, because Seungmin loves him and he loves Seungmin more.
"Without you, there's none of me."
When Jeongin whispers it, without turning around and look at Seungmin, his wide dark eyes resting on the faint moonlight coming from their bedroom's window, he is sure it's so. Or at least, he thinks he and Seungmin share something so strong they couldn't possibly end up in pieces if one of them was to leave, because he could have said anything else, but he didn't. Perhaps the truth was spilled. And when he feels Seungmin —the only angel brought to earth to soothe the pain— smiling against his skin, clinging to him as if he were afraid that, by letting go of his grip, he might lose him, Jeongin tries to convince himself that it is really so: without Seungmin, there is none of him. Nothing of him remains.
Seungmin holds him up, but is he able to hold him up too? Now, that backward step of their love has turned into a long staircase. Maybe it was better to not try at all, to let things happen by their own.
To say goodbye first.
I don't wanna run away, 'cause I need your say, if I go someway
(VO!D – Hyunjun Hur)
Seungmin is lost, and he may never come back.
He does not tell Jeongin directly, because hiding behind metaphors and mince words is his armour; it's Jeongin's as well, after all. They both wear armours; they both lock themselves in a big chest to which the other has never had the key. And it's all right, they are used to say, as long as they are protected from time passing by like a tornado without it hitting and sucking in both of them and what they have left. Or what, perhaps, they had in the past that now seems so far away it makes their head spin by only thinking about it.
Seungmin looks at Jeongin, who is resting with his back against the couch, at 10:40 at night, after hours spent studying for one of his last exams; he looks at him as if he were the most beautiful and precious thing in the entire world, as if he couldn't help but rest his eyes on his face and embrace his visuals. As if it's the last time in this life he can look at him —really look at him. When Jeongin opens his eyes, they are reflected in the older's gaze and he smiles, but plain speaking has never been one of their favorite pastimes.
There is always something that is hidden, concealed behind cotton clouds that cover the real but never hurt.
"The void is controlling me, but I really don't want to run away." Seungmin's hands are made of porcelain, as he moves a tuft of hair from Jeongin's eyes with his index finger, to get a better look at his boyfriend in front of the light emanating from the television. He sits down beside him, the carpet welcoming him as if it had missed him. "What do you think about it?"
When the two of them are together, no light is ever bright enough to show each other what they really are; not nowadays, at least. So, they just stare at a full screen with the volume at zero as their fingers intertwine from time to time and the sound of their hearts becomes the only sound to fill the room they have taken refuge in. Together. They don't spend much real time together anymore, and if they do it's all so ambiguous, all so hard to tolerate to the best. They sit still, mutter some peculiar words under their breaths, and then silence.
But they love each other still.
Seungmin is the same as always, Jeongin is the same as always, but everything that was compact is now no longer compact; everything that was snow has now melted.
Everything falls. Everything keeps falling.
Both of them drift away and take a different path each time: right and left; left and right. They cross each other from time to time, heavy shoulders and tired gaze, but they always shrug and smile and pretend and have only one single, tremendous thought in their heads that makes each of them rest in their own boxes; no sharing. It is many letters that they dream and that live in their dreams, but which disappear when they suddenly awaken:
despite everything, I know that he would wait for me.
Belief is a serious, almost sinful feeling. Seungmin's lips are dry from repeating the same thing over and over again, in a low voice, while Jeongin's eyes are releasing more and more tears containing words that he doesn't want to show anyone, least of all Seungmin.
"Even if you were to run away, even if you were to escape one day, I would wait for you. I would wait for us." Perhaps, it's the tears that are talking for Jeongin; they're letting everything out. Perhaps, it's the hope that, by saying it out loud, Seungmin might actually return from the place he seems to have left for. "Without you, there is none of me."
Seungmin clasps Jeongin's hands in his, pulling the boy gently to his body and kissing his temples softly, just like he does at night when he comes back later than usual and knows Jeongin's awake. He's trapped wherever he is right now, but he is there for the love of his life. Jeongin closes his eyes, lets himself be rocked by Seungmin's gentle touch, and when he feels his heart skip a beat, when he feels a sudden, enormous emptiness in his chest, he knows, he just knows, that Seungmin —the boy with eyes that definitely hold three whole galaxies— will never come back.
You won't let him come back.
He is far, far, far away.
Seungmin is light years away, lost in a world of which Jeongin is no longer a part. But has Jeongin ever really been a part of it?
I love you.
I love you too.
Love is not enough.
If it was, Seungmin wouldn't been long gone by now.
"Even if I hold onto you, even if I hold you, I'll end up getting lost again."
And when Seungmin says that, he knows Jeongin has yet to fall asleep. They go back to their usual nights, and Seungmin says that even though it hurts —it hurts like hell— to let out those huge, heavy words. He says that because Jeongin won't, and at least one of them should be able to speak the truth right now.
But Jeongin is lost too.
Was he lost before Seungmin, or did he wait until the older could no longer find his way home to do so as well?
I'm just hiding, nothing I can do
(VO!D – Hyunjun Hur)
Seungmin is lost, so why doesn't Jeongin try to look for him one last time?
Seungmin skin is cold under the younger's touch, but Jeongin is more than certain that his is as well, perhaps even colder. If they grab each other's hands, they risk freezing —one wrong move and one of the two could disappear from the other's memories, and dying next to each other is no longer an option for the two of them to hold on to. Jeongin has followed Seungmin all the way across the sea he swam, always three metres behind him, to make sure he was alright (just as well as Seungmin always looked behind him as he kept swimming, because if something ever happened to Jeongin, his most dear precious, he would have never forgiven himself), even though the boy may just want to convince himself that Seungmin was not the one following him.
Look for him? How am I supposed to look for him if I'm following him? If I'm right behind his beating heart? If I can feel what he feels? One last time? There'll be no last time.
"Seungmin, please come back inside. It's freezing out here."
Jeongin is not looking for him, but it's not because he is following him: he isn't doing that, either. He has forgotten how to find Seungmin, who is lost in a place now unreachable to the younger; a place hidden under music that is too loud for Jeongin's quiet comfort zone and which can change day to night —night to day— at will, perhaps in case of need.
The night is cold in the middle of winter, as Seungmin prays there will be a time in which they could celebrate Jeongin's birthday again. The younger moves closer to him, walking light steps as he takes in the fresh air and trembles under the picturesque snow that is falling slowly both on their heads and the scenery around them.
He settles in just a few feet in front of the older, squeezing into his jacket and watching Seungmin's breath come to life in the chill of that specific winter's night, as the other's eyes close in contemplation of an evening the two of them will never relive again. Not in the future this universe holds.
"Why won't you bring me back, Innie?"
Seungmin's voice is a low whisper, not trembling but hinting at an end neither of the two can escape anymore, and his eyes are still closed. Perhaps, he doesn't want to see.
And all Jeongin does is stand there, ten feet in front of his lover, looking at him as if he is looking at him too (which he is, but without seeing).
Seungmin is strong —he has always been, but when events get stronger than he is, he struggles to stay on his feet, and closing his eyes to certain difficulties sounds like his only chance of a painless exit. Jeongin is the same, in a way, but he likes to look at things: he likes to see, no matter what.
"I know you can't, don't you think I don't know. But I'm asking you anyway: why won't you bring me back?"
Tears are yet to be seen, and Seungmin's eyes are still closed under the moonlight.
"I forgot how to find you, Min."
Jeongin's voice still sounds the same as it always has, and Seungmin smiles sadly at his words, partly because he loves the harmony of Jeongin's vocalization and partly because hearing that sentence ring in his ears hurts a lot more than he had previously thought it would have. It somehow makes him realize that what is happening is true. All too true.
"I know."
Seungmin opens his big, brown eyes to point them straight into Jeongin's. He stares at the younger as if he, himself, is not really there: Seungmin is already miles away. He's sitting on a pile of wooden trunks, his legs covered in his favourite sweatpants. He must be freezing, with only his oversized jacket to cover his thin body. Behind him there's an unlit fire, memory of an old campfire they enjoyed with their friends in summer, and Seungmin is facing the house. He looks much smaller from where Jeongin is standing: so fragile, almost helpless, definitely lost.
"Why don't you look for me?" Jeongin asks, and his voice betrays him: without Seungmin, nothing of him remains and he is so afraid. If Seungmin doesn't find him, what will become of Jeongin? What will he settle for?
Seungmin shakes his head, and Jeongin's hands grow colder. "Even if I looked for you, I'd get lost again."
This time, it's Jeongin who is smiling, as warm tears suddenly roll down his face and don't stop even if he tries, oh so, hard to allay them. "Even if you looked for me," he says, choked up, "I wouldn't know how to be found."
It is not clear who took the first step forward, or who was the first to take the other into his arms and whisper a stifled goodbye amidst the light sobs and heavy tears. It's only clear that Seungmin got lost a long time ago, and Jeongin got lost maybe long before him. Seungmin is lost and will never return, never come back to where he once belonged (even though, in Jeongin's heart, there always will be a place for him to rest in) and so is Jeongin; so will Jeongin. In Seungmin's heart, too, there will always be a place —a big, comfortable place— where the younger one can take refuge anytime.
Seungmin is lost, maybe looking for Jeongin, maybe not. Jeongin is lost, maybe looking for Seungmin, maybe not. They are somehow both lost, not able to follow the steps the two of them had already taken and come back to where they were once supposed to be. Perhaps, even take each other back and live together again. Love together again.
They can no longer find each other, and are now forced to love each other by themselves; their mouths are shut, their paths don't cross again. Their rooms are empty of one's presence.
Which one of them really isn't capable to find the other and which one doesn't know how to be found?
But without you, there's none of me.
They both know, but they're both lost and going back to be something, to be whole, to be just a piece, doesn't sound right.