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It was cold. I remember that much.
Yes, it was a cold night. Maybe even snowing. I know this because of the feeling of the freezing, wet concrete beneath my trembling body before I lost senses once again.
It was never too long before I somewhat awoke again.
Next it was the ambulance. I may have been entirely out of it, but I know what an ambulance sounds like. It was loud, even from inside. The noise hurt, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't.
There was also someone else there. I didn't know the man, but he didn't seem to mind. I didn't, either. If he was going to make whatever was going on inside of me stop hurting, then I was glad for his presence.
I never saw him after that. Different division I suppose, because there were new people from then on. No one was ever around for too long, maybe an hour at most, before passing me off to someone else's hands- metaphorically, of course. I was always laying on a table the whole night. I guess it was a bed, but it felt more like a table at the moment.
I didn't mind.
I would put up with it. I don't really have the presence of mind to recall exactly why I am here right now, but I didn't mind.
Death was never really an option for me. No matter how foggy my brain became, no matter how much the pain took over me, no matter how much I relied on their machines and their surgeries. I would let them have their fun tonight, and I wouldn't complain, because I knew that the moment I woke up for good, Jonghyun would be there.
He'll be there waiting the next time I open my eyes.
He wasn't there when I went down, but then, I didn't expect him to be. They'll surely tell him I'm here, and he'll come rushing.
I got a call I had never expected to receive. Something no one should ever receive. The call saying that your loved one has been hospitalized, fighting for his life.
And yet why, two days later, am I still waiting for him to wake up? There is only uncertain witness account as to what happened to him that night, but I don't know what to believe. I won't believe anything until Taemin wakes up and can tell me the truth.
I heard that he was beaten by a man on the sidewalk in the middle of the night for no reason. All I know for sure is that it was late, very late, when he called me to inform me that he was leaving work after his shift at the bar and would be home within the hour. I had told him to wait there, that I didn't want him walking alone that late, that I would call him a cab- if I had a car, I would have gone to pick him up myself. It was the taxi driver who called the ambulance, arriving at the street corner to find him unconscious and bloodied with a woman checking his pulse. She said she had seen him sitting, minding his own business, when another man came over and tried to fight with him; she said it wasn't fair, that the man was twice as big as him, but that she didn't know why he'd done it.
It was killing me, not knowing who this man was or why he hurt Taemin. The uncertainty was suffocating, sitting in Taemin's hospital room 24 hours a day, hearing nothing but the monotonous beeping that I should have been grateful for- it showed he was alive, at least- but was only making me more anxious.
We could hardly afford this. We did fine on our meager salaries upholding rent for our apartment, weekly groceries, and the occasional nice date together. I should have been more focused on Taemin's state right now, but the financial stress was too much. There was the ambulance to pay for, the hospital room which he shared with another comatose patient who never had any visitors anyway, the emergency procedures, all sorts of services that were obviously necessary to a healthy recovery.. We hadn't been given a single bill yet, but I knew they weren't something I shouldn't just sit around and wait for.
I stopped staying at the hospital 24/7. Doctors told me it may be awhile until he regains consciousness, and they promised to call me as soon as he did. So I went back to work- with a real job. I was a hardly-known songwriter trying to get my name out there, but after what happened, I couldn't handle such a risky career anymore. I put songwriting to a halt and applied at every close-by restaurant and retail store; any money coming in would be appreciated.
I spent my nights at the hospital; it was too lonely not to. I didn't want to return to a silent apartment every night and sleep in a bed far too big for one. I would simply stop by to pick up the things I'd need the next day before heading to the hospital to sleep partially on Taemin's crisp hospital bed but mostly on the cheap plastic chair kept by the bedside. It wasn't comfortable- physically- but the mental assurance attained from being nearby my baby was enough to make up for it. Honestly, these past two weeks have been difficult as is, and I don't think I would have been able to handle staying here all the time like I had the first two days.
It hurt.
Which is why I only felt a little guilty getting the awaited call nearly a week later when I had been working as if it were any other day; my new boss knew of my situation and was understanding of me leaving early to get to the hospital. Taemin's advising nurse had said that he was exhibiting signs of consciousness and that he may wake up very soon.
I took no chances and left right away, arriving at the hospital room which I knew so well by now in a matter of minutes. Thankfully, I wasn't too late, and when I entered, the nurse was still there monitoring him.
She smiled upon my entrance and motioned for me to come closer, as I was still frozen in nervousness at the door. I don't know why I was nervous- I should be relieved- but I don't know what to expect. Will he be okay? Will he be afraid or in pain? Will he be able to speak? Will he recognize me? It was a thought I hadn't wanted to even entertain, but it's still a possibility- memory loss, that is. They said he sustained a severe concussion, so it's certainly a factor I should have taken into consideration before this point. And before I knew it, there were tears in my eyes, on my face.
"This isn't something to be upset about, sir," his nurse informed me politely. "His vital signs are looking very positive, and we have no reason to believe this will be an unfortunate scenario." She smiled and stepped aside, allowing me access to that little plastic chair that I've become all too familiar with recently, and I offered her a smile back as I took the invitation, even going so far as to grab hold of Taemin's warm hand in my own. Warm- warm is good. Warm is life, right?
His fingers twitched in my grasp and I looked up at the nurse expectantly with my eyes wide. She grinned back. "He's been doing that for a few minutes- it shouldn't be too long now. Why don't you try talking to him? He might respond better to waking up to a familiar voice."
I gulped and look back to the man lying in the bed. Trying to ignore the nurse's presence as if it were only the two of us in the whole world, I cleared my throat. "T-Taemin... It's Jonghyun-hyung. I've been here waiting for you to wake up, so you should really hurry and stop worrying me," I choked out with a tearful chuckle, using one hand to wipe at my wet cheeks. I had to let out a cough for a moment in order to keep my voice working; my emotions were simply overflowing, and I had to fight through it to speak. "I've, uh.. I've really missed your voice lately... an-and your smile," I added. "I... um, I got a job working at a, uh, a department store... I have to dress really nice all the time, and it's mostly for snobby rich women, but I don't mind it so much." I continued speaking, laughing genuinely at the weirdness of this. I hadn't spoken a single word to him in all this time- I thought it would be useless since he couldn't hear me anyway. I didn't know what to say now though... Do I ask questions, talk about my life, tell him how much I miss him?
I glanced back up at the nurse to see her nodding encouragingly at my actions, so I assumed I wasn't doing anything stupid. "I can't wait to see your beautiful eyes again Minnie, I didn't know how much I would need to see them every day. I hope you aren't afraid when you wake up, you have no reason to be. The doctors say you're doing so well, and I couldn't be more proud of you for getting this far already. I knew you were strong, baby. I shouldn't have been worried, right? You knew what you were doing." My throat had gradually been closing up in mixed excitement at the way his fingers had been slowly moving more and more, to the point that he was holding my hand back now. His eyelids were fluttering every so slightly, and I saw his lips pursing under the oxygen mask he was required to wear.
Just like that feeling you get on a roller coaster, when you reach the top of the peak and begin to fall down the steep slope, my heart was beating so erratically that I thought it was trying to jump straight out of my mouth the second Taemin's eyes could be seen. They were only open a slit, but it was enough for us to know that he was here and awake and conscious.
When he made an incoherent mumble and turned his head a bit to the side, I had to bite my lip to keep the tears from falling again. I was happy and hopeful, incredibly joyful at seeing Taemin looking back at me once again. His eyes opened just a little more in recognition, and I tightened my grip on his hand.
His nurse took a moment to check the machines hooked up to him, and after confirming that everything was looking normal, she stepped out to allow us privacy.
"Taemin, baby, you're awake..." I couldn't help but state the obvious, I felt like there was nothing else that I could say in that moment.
And with the small smile I received in turn, I knew it would be alright.
Jonghyun was never here.
I was so relieved to wake up to his face, knowing that all would be okay with him by my side.
But the following weeks were lonely. He said he got a job and was working on paying the bills, but I would rather go into debt than have him absent for my recovery. Twice so far, I have been in surgery without him to hold my hand as they put me to sleep or to be with me when I awoke again, in more pain than before.
I didn't want him to give up his dream of being a songwriter for me either.
Everything about this made me feel terrible, and he wasn't even here anymore. I've tried looking at it through his eyes and I understand, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. When he does come, he always asks me if I remember what happened that night.
I always tell him that I don't. But I do.
I didn't want him to be hurt by the truth, or feel guilty for any reason. But my resolve was beginning to fade as the hours and the days went by, each feeling lonlier than the last. I've always been an introverted person, but spending this much time by myself was driving me crazy, and all I wanted was Jonghyun here to settle my nerves and my heavyheartedness.
In a moment of selfish desire, I confessed the truth to Jonghyun.
It was a seemless day, nothing out of the ordinary- in regards to our new schedule of living. The hospital smelled just as clean and nauseating as any other day before; I was simply clinging onto the hope that the truth would make him less willing to leave me every morning to work and not come back until I was already asleep. (He brought me dinner once but was so disappointed when the doctor told him that I couldn't eat real food yet that he hasn't returned to my room at a reasonable hour since)
"Jongie..." I muttered, still struggling with using my voice, though it had been nearly two weeks since I first woke up. The weakness in my voice only encouraged me further to seek out the comfort I so desperately desired.
"Yeah Tae?" he asked, slipping off his nice shoes and padding over to my bedside in his socks. His feet must hurt, standing on them all day long to help customers, I thought sadly, knowing that I would have gladly offered up a massage in the past- though I had never been the best at them, he always loved the feeling anyway.
But I was determined. It was my third evening that I had attempted to stay awake long enough to see Jonghyun arrive at night, and I was finally able to do it (funny that it took so much effort to simply keep myself from falling asleep before 9:00 at night) so I wasn't letting this opportunity go to waste. I didn't want to have to wait up another night. It's exhausting.
I laid still until Jonghyun sat on the chair by my bed, and then moved slightly to reach for his hand. He easily picked up on my intentions and his hand met mine halfway so I wouldn't have to move too much. I was thankful for that. Everything still felt so sore.
"You should be resting now, baby. Look, you can barely keep your eyes open," Jonghyun commented quietly in the silence that ensued- I couldn't think of the right words.
"He hurt me because I'm gay," I finally decided upon, figuring there was no use in dancing around the subject.
I felt his movements stop suddenly- the little fidgeting he does in his chair because of ADD, the rubbing of his thumb along the back of my hand, the tapping of his foot because of some ever-present melody in his head- everything stopped. And I didn't know how to feel; Jonghyun was always moving, and that didn't bother me. This bothers me, though.
"Tae.... You- you remember?" he asked, looking as if he were in shock.
Taemin gave a stiff nod, wincing at the uninvited sound that the movement made against the crinkly sheets. "I told you I loved you on the phone. He asked me who I was talking to, he seemed friendly, so I told him that it was my boyfriend Jonghyun. Then he was telling me that stupid faggots like me deserve to die, and that you don't love me and I don't love you, because 'homos don't deserve love' or something like that."
I clenched my jaw, and I already knew what he was thinking. I knew exactly what he was going to say next, because we've basically heard it all when it comes to homophobic slurs and jabs, but instead of taking this quietly like we usually do, there's no way Taemin would be capable of just sitting there submissively when his love was questioned.
"I just told him that he was wrong, that you're very good to me and I've never been happier in my life, and that's when he hit me first."
Speechless, I did nothing at first but hold his hand a little tighter in mine. I could say a million things right now- I could remind him to know how to pick his fights wisely, or tell him that we will get justice on that awful man- but I decided on what I knew he wanted to hear right now rather than what would have been the most practical.
"I'm sorry, baby. We're in this together, okay?" Part of me wanted to feel guilty that Taemin was hurt this badly defending me and our relationship, but I quickly stamped out that feeling. He didn't do it for any reason but to stand up for us and our lifestyle, and that's admirable, not shameful.
I worked. I was finally accepted for another part-time job at a breakfast place, working their earliest shift. By lunchtime, I was back at the retail store. It was exhausting, but I was able to earn enough to get Taemin moved to a private room that he didn't have to share. Sure, the other man in the room was always unconscious, but it was slightly awkward for both of us to have him around all the time. This new room, though, was quieter without the addition of another heart rate machine beeping at a different rhythm than Taemin's. Plus, there was now a couch that I could sleep on instead of being constantly sore from that damn plastic chair. I would have just joined Taemin on the bed had it been remotely big enough for two, but clearly that wasn't the case, especially considering the fact that Taemin wasn't physically able to move over to make room for me.
But the new information was killing me- the fact that this was a hate crime and not just some freak incident. Neither of us were the 'flamboyant' kind, and we've been comfortable enough in our lives together that we'd never felt the need to stand up for our lifestyle. But now I felt that I had to do something about this...
I attended my first pride parade the weekend after Taemin confessed the reason behind his attack to me. We'd never been to one before, because we never really felt the desire to put ourselves out there that much. Change in the views on homouality will happen when they are meant to, and parades are going to do nothing to change that. But I found that finally attending one was much different than I expected. It wasn't making a point to other people, it was about encouraging us who live this kind of life. It was awkward going by myself, but I felt that it was something I owed Taemin, who had to pay a big price simply for being gay.
As it turns out, I was recognized from the pictures in the news stories that were consequently being done about Taemin's attack, and I was encouraged to share my story at a small event afterwards. I figured that it couldn't hurt, and they seemed inspired by the way Taemin and I had been handling things so maturely that I couldn't refuse. The only thing I was trying to do with this whole thing anyway was to help others in similar positions.
And it was amazing, being in this community of supportive friends. We'd received anonymous donations through my activism and I knew that we were going to be alright once this blew over.
I thought things were going so well until Taemin called me one day during my lunch break between jobs in tears. Just the fact that he was crying was jarring enough- he'd always been too emotionally strong for anything of the sort. But his words were even more so:
"Jongie, please come. I'm not okay."
As much as I understand that he's doing something good for our community and making good friends who can help him when this all becomes too much for him, I couldn't help but be jealous.
I was never a jealous type. Jonghyun was obviously immensely attractive, so it no longer bothered me when people would flirt or stare, because I knew that he was mine and he would always make that known.
But this was different. I wanted to be the one who's there for him right now. He said we were in this together, so where was he to rejoice with me when they took me off of the ventilator for good, or to hold my hand and let me rest my head on his chest when I was so tired that I couldn't keep it up when they put me through a million tests to track my recovery? If he's struggling, I wanted him to come to me, and I wanted to be able to do the same to him. That's what being in a relationship means, isn't it?
So I couldn't help it. I wanted to be selfish for once in my life, because even if today wasn't anything significant, everyone has a snapping point. I suppose this is mine.
I've never questioned my love for Jonghyun; I had come to terms with being gay long before we'd gotten together.
But for the first time in my life, I was wondering if I made the right decisions- to act on my feelings, to be in a relationship with Jonghyun, to defend it against some drunk idiot- that led to me being here, in a hospital bed weeks into my recovery and so close to making it out. But I'd done it practically alone. That's what bothered me. I just wanted him here to confirm that this is real, this is us and that we're unbreakable. Because I was honestly beginning to doubt everything and the thoughts were driving me insane during the daytime when nothing kept me company but the tv across the room and the games on my phone.
"Hey Taem, how's your day?"
"Jongie, please come. I'm not okay." I meant to preface that with something rather than coming right out and begging, but my teary voice would have given me away anyway.
"Tae? What's wrong?"
"Please, can you come see me?" I implored helplessly.
I heard his hesitation on the end of the line, and I braced myself for another rejection. "Baby, I've got to be at work in 10 minutes, is there anything I can do to help from here?"
I bit back a sob at the reply I was hoping I wouldn't receive. "No, nevermind hyung," I mumbled before hanging up.
Hyung. When's the last time I called him hyung?
I didn't mean to call him that, honestly. It just slipped out in my feelings of disappointment.
I rolled onto my side, facing away from the door and curled into myself ever so slightly, always cautious of the ever-present IVs sticking out of me in various places. I didn't want to sit in here and sulk (when was the last time I cried, anyway?), so I gave my best attempt at reigning in my useless tears.
But the loneliness wasn't allowing for that to happen. My heart clenched so painfully that I hadn't even heard a nurse enter. I wasn't even aware of her presence until she tried to calm me down.
"Taemin-sshi, what's wrong? Is anything hurting?"
I shook my head and squirmed around under her cold hand until she released me. "Please can I be alone?" I whimpered out, hating this weakness. I didn't listen for her reply, only waiting until I heard the door click closed again on her way out before crying even harder than before. Not too long after, however, I heard the door opening again, to my displeasure.
"Please!" I begged, not turning around but only holding my head tightly in my hands now.
"Baby..."
There's no way I was hearing Jonghyun's voice right now. He had work. That was more important, apparently.
"Minnie, talk to me," the voice was getting closer and sounding more urgent; it got to the point that I started believing in it, even opening my eyes. I was met with the sight of Jonghyun just finishing his way around the bed to be in front of.
"Jongie," I mumbled in disbelief, my wide eyes still releasing stupid tears. He was bending over to be able to look at me properly, so I started to sit up so I could embrace him in relief. He helped me sit up the rest of the way and kept his arms tight around my waist. He sat on the edge of the bed without releasing his hold on me.
"What's going on?" he tried again.
"I miss you," I whispered simply, unable to find my words yet.
He looked confused. "How can you miss me? I'm right here."
He was usually so good at picking up subtext and hidden meaning in my words, which made me frustrated that he didn't this time. "But you haven't been. You're never here, Jongie."
"Tae, you understand why I've been working so hard, right?" he asked sympathetically. "It's all for you, to make this easier and more comfortable for you. You have such a large support group behind you now, and-"
"You do," I interrupted. "You have a support group because you can get up and leave here whenever you want to. Don't you know how lonely I get?"
And in that moment, I knew that he doesn't know how lonely I get. Why would he? I've always been so independent. "I'm here with you at night, and in the mornings too. And I text you whenever I can. But I can't just quit my new jobs, Tae, they're paying the bills. And look at all the flowers this community has sent you," he gestured around the room. "They're not just there to support me, it's for us, Taemin."
I bit my lip and cuddled further into his warm, strong arms. "I want you here though. When I'm awake. I want to see your face and talk to you and be able to count on you to be here when something important happens. Please, Jongie! We can get help from the hospital, I'm sure we can work something out as payment; we're not poor. I don't need this stupid fancy room or flowers or anything. You weren't there for any of my surgeries, I was so afraid that the nurse had to hold my hand when they put me to sleep because I was too scared. I tried pretending it was your hand, which it should have been." I tried to keep myself calm, but I couldn't help but to get worked up. "It's so hard doing this by myself!"
The way his body was trembling against me told me that he felt terrible and I honestly felt a little guilty. I wiggled my arms out of his hold and carefully draped them over his shoulders to loosely return the hug.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, obviously trying to retain his composure. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I should have been here more, I shouldn't have gotten caught up in the flurry and left you to do this by yourself. Sometimes I forget that you need my help- you've always been so self-sufficient and confident in everything you do."
"Just because I can do it by myself doesn't mean that I want to..."
"I know. I should have thought about that more. I just... I felt like this is partially my fault- I mean... you're in here because you were standing up for us. I just felt like you deserved to not have all the financial stress on you once you were out, but I didn't mean to neglect you. I promise. I love you so much, and I should have realized this sooner without you having to tell me. I hope... there's some way to make it up to you...? I'll quit both of those jobs, I will. I'll never go back. I'll stay here during the day to entertain you and keep you company. I'll write you songs and sing them to you whenever you get sad."
"Can you start now?"
"Huh?"
"Can you sing for me now?" I asked, pulling away a bit to look into his eyes. My own were drying as he spoke to me, feeling touched by his words. I had honestly thought for a while that he wasn't going to listen to what I really meant, but of course he did. I've never asked him for something this significant before; there's no way he would have let me down.
"I haven't written the songs yet, Minnie, how do you expect me to sing them?" he laughed with a little sniffle at the changing mood.
"You wrote a lot of songs before," I reminded him.
"I want to make one special for you."
"No matter what it is, it'll be special coming from you," I smiled.
"Okay, okay," he agreed with a light laugh.
He wasn't even through with the first note when I interrupted, suddenly remembering something. "Jongie," I mumbled. He dropped his head with a chuckle at the situation, but looked up at me with a charming smile anyway, encouraging me to speak. "Sorry. I just wanted to tell you that it's not your fault. You said you blamed yourself, but you shouldn't. I don't regret what I did. I'll never regret saying that I love you."
"What if I tickle you every time you say it, and then you laugh so hard that you can't breathe. Would you regret it then?" he joked with a teasing grin.
"Never," I challenged.
"What if I kiss you so hard that you get dizzy?"
Is that how this goes? In that case- "I love you a lot."
I swear there were fireworks going off somewhere in the room from the way that he nuzzled my face before connecting our lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled back for a split second just to say "I love you too" before he was back on me, pulling me closer than ever before.
And I couldn't complain about a single thing in that moment.