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When does a love... die? Is it over once you break up with them? Has love reached its conclusion once your lover decided to go and leave you? Taeyong isn't really sure when, or how, or if it's even possible—because among all the questions and uncertainties, he's most certain about this one definite thing: his love for Doyoung will never reach its end.
Yet, yet, Doyoung's did. Doyoung reached that point, and only then was Taeyong able to understand how, and know when, and that it is possible.
"I-I'm sorry, what?" Taeyong asks, looking at his lover now, who obviously caught his attention with his abrupt question.
He had been working with office stuff when Doyoung walked inside the room, visibly agitated, and Taeyong just noticed now that the younger has been pacing around the room. "Doyoung, speak... please."
Doyoung stopped in front of him, reaches for his hand, and somehow, deep inside him, Taeyong wished that he didn't. But he did. And with his cold, trembling hands, his lover repeated, "Didn't you... didn't you ask me before to promise you to tell you when my... when I want you to let me go?"
The silence in the air then was deafening, suffocating—and Taeyong wants to scream. Yet, he can't. Weakly, he just nodded his head, somehow having a slight idea of how their talk will end.
"Taeyong... I'm very... I'm truly sorry..." Doyoung mumbles, his dry lips formed into a straight line, and oh how Taeyong wants to claim it right there and then—but he cannot move, even more so speak.
It took him quite some time to register it, still a little in denial. "Are you... breaking up with me?"
Doyoung just nodded, and hell, he needed words. Because really? What prompted it? They were okay yesterday, they even kissed earlier this morning before they separated for work. Was it the pizza that they ordered for tonight's dinner? Is it the newly bought shampoo?
Taeyong longingly looks at Doyoung as he reaches for his still-wet hair, fresh from the shower. Then he repeats, much stronger this time, "Doie... are you breaking up with me?"
"Taeyong... I am."
Maybe the perfect weather the whole day had prompted it. Perhaps it was the red roses that he gifted Doyoung to surprise him this afternoon. Feasibly, it's all just him—them—and all he could do was nod. Because he also promised him then. That he will let him go when he asks for it.
"O-okay... Doyoung." Not Doie, not love, not baby. Just… Doyoung.
Taeyong just realized then that his love for his beloved was truly something else. Because rather than getting mad at him—of how unfair things had unfolded—he loves him even more. He loves him even deeper. Because Doyoung had been so selfless, so brave to tell him those things even when he knows that he will hurt him.
With a nod, Taeyong tries to be tough too.
It's flabbergasting—how easy it went for Doyoung to gather his things and place them back into his suitcase when it took them weeks to fix them into place back on the day they moved in.
It's questionable, how Doyoung's love ended just like that—when that same love brought them, saved them through highs and lows for eight years.
"Doyoung..." Taeyong faintly calls. Just when the other was about to leave their room, taking his things with him. Doyoung looked at him, his eyes also brimming with tears.
Taeyong gulped, sniffled, then smiled. "I will be here... I will be here until the day I move on, only then will I leave."
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Two years later...
Doyoung met Johnny in a bar five months after breaking up with Taeyong. It was just like any other ordinary day except that he found himself drawn by the tall man. After a month of pursuing him, Doyoung gave in. And right at that moment, when Johnny kissed him under the moonlight, all he could think was that he had fallen in love.
You see, Taeyong has been Doyoung's best friend for almost his whole life—his presence was comforting, he always felt like home. While Johnny is—he's more on the extreme side. He makes Doyoung's heart hurt in a good way, he's capable of making him feel giddy with butterflies wilding in his stomach. A year and several months later though, things had... changed.
Johnny is surely far from Taeyong—and it's not that he wants to compare the two, yet lately, he always finds himself doing it at the end of the day.
He finds himself thinking about Taeyong after a long, exhausting day—seeing his (and Johnny's) room empty because well his lover is still out, working as a DJ in the bar where they met.
Doyoung remembers Taeyong while he's cooking breakfast for Johnny—and albeit it was just a perfectly cooked and shaped sunny side up, he couldn't be more grateful upon knowing—remembering—who taught him how to fry, how to simply open the stove, how to break an egg. Patiently, lovingly, it was all Taeyong.
Doyoung, as much as he hates it, thinks about Taeyong when he's making love with Johnny, recalling how his ex-lover used to worship his body, his wholeness, in ways that always differ from his current lover.
Doyoung finds his dulled love for Taeyong, his first great love, slowly blooming again in the middle of all that is Johnny—his sheets, the aroma of his favorite decaffeinated coffee and pancakes, his scented candles, the way his heart beats triple in the simplest of things, and literally everything.
And he knows—they, him and Johnny knows things were starting to fall apart.
"You're not here again, Doyoung," Johnny utters. Not as a question, but as a statement. He is only ever certain.
The young lad couldn't find it in himself to lie anymore, thus he nodded. Johnny nodded back, moving to Doyoung's side, taking his shirt that he just discarded a while ago when he was making out with his lover, wearing it, and looking at him again. "Doyoung, this isn't working out anymore."
Of course, Doyoung knows. The moment Taeyong entered his mind again, the night his thoughts got fully engulfed by his ex-lover, Doyoung knows it wouldn't work out anymore. He realized then that he loved Johnny because of the sparks that emitted between the two of them, and they're both aware that it's now gone—and it wouldn't work anymore.
How would it work when all he has in mind is Taeyong, Taeyong, Taeyong? How could they continue their relationship when they're only bonded now by their flesh, lust, and pleasure?
"I know, Johnny... I'm sorry."
Those familiar words, they only occurred to him again now, and it all felt bitter, how can he do it to Taeyong?
"I am too..." Johnny uttered, placing a careful pat on his right knee, assuring him that no matter how ugly things are unfolding for them, they were on the same page—but Taeyong, he left him there.
I will be here... I will be here until the day I move on, only then will I leave. With tears streaming in his eyes upon hearing Taeyong's voice in his dumb head, Doyoung quickly rises to his feet, taking a sweater as he says, "I... I need to go, Johnny."
"Okay. Be safe, Doyoung."
Doyoung nodded, placing one last kiss on Johnny's head, thanking him—for what, really? Maybe for all the things that he did for him. Perchance, for giving Doyoung the realization that the sole reason why he broke up with Taeyong wasn't because his love for him had slowly turned dull, but rather because it had gotten deep—piercing his core, touching his soul, screaming he was, he is and will always be his home. And he was a jerk and a coward for running away from it.
Running to his car, and driving as fast as he could towards their home, Doyoung can't help but curse his family for giving him reasons to run away from something that has gotten familiar, comfortable, and warm.
He also curses himself for allowing his past to ruin Taeyong—his most loving, caring, and genuine love.
Arriving at their place, Doyoung exited his car. And looking at the familiar house in front of him—his home—he feels his knees slowly giving up. It still looks the same as how he left it that night. The exterior design, their love bench that was placed under a tree, Taeyong's plants and blooming flowers—they're all there. Except that the gate—which was once painted rosy pink due to Taeyong's liking—is now a blinding black.
Of course, Taeyong wouldn't be there anymore... right? After all, it has been two years already.
When Doyoung turned around, his lips parted seeing his answer—his first and great love, in flesh, with his black, long, and silky hair. "Hi... do you need anything?"
Doyoung’s flustered seeing him. And for a moment, all he could do was stare at Taeyong. The only person—his person—that has been in his mind for the past months already. The elder still looks the same, beautiful and endearing as ever, yet at the same time, there’s also something different in him.
Taeyong is looking at him without the same loving gaze he used to give him. All the time.
"I'm... I'm sorry... do I know you?"
“I…” To say that Doyoung was baffled will be an understatement. He can’t find it in himself to speak, and all he could do was look at the elder for a long time, waiting for something. Because… how could he not recognize him? There are streetlamps around them and he’s pretty sure that Taeyong can see him well and clearly.
Before he could respond though, Taeyong breaks the silence again for them, fixing the puzzle in his thoughts. “I… I’m sorry if ever I really know you and I… can’t recognize you…”
Wetting his lower lip while fiddling the hem of his shirt—a sure sign that he was nervous—Taeyong continues to share, “I… I have lost my memory. There was… there was a fire. Almost three houses were eaten by the flame, including half of mine… and… uh… my doctor told me that… I have amnesia because of the traumatic experience.”
Doyoung’s doubtful. He first took a gulp, looking—staring at Taeyong’s eyes, scanning a hint of a lie in there. Yet there was none. “H-how… how come the house still… looks the same?”
“Well… my doctor believes that living in a familiar place will be helpful for me to regain my memories. My parents and my sister did their best to build a house that looked exactly like my home before… How…” This time, Taeyong is the one who’s puzzled. How does a stranger know what his house looks like before? Is he… not a stranger to him?
“Who… are you?”
Silence. Then… “I’m… Doyoung.”
Doyoung, Doyoung, Doyoung… Taeyong surely heard that name somewhere, sure. Looking at the young lad in front of him, Taeyong feels a little suffocated—in an odd, good way. It was as if Doyoung took his breath away from him when he uttered his name. There’s this familiarity to it, and pronouncing his name again for the fourth time rolled in his tongue so good, Taeyong feels his heart skipping a beat. And then, there, he remembers him. “You’re Doyoung…”
“My ex-lover…”
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Doyoung needs time. Albeit he isn’t really in the right place to think that things are unfair to him, somehow, it is. He can’t believe it—he can’t fully grasp how the fire happened without him knowing about it. Two towns away, who cares, really? They could’ve called him. But then again he was already an ex-lover—as Taeyong calls him now—that time, and even now. He could’ve heard it from the news, yet perhaps he was already too occupied with his own things and Johnny the day they informed everyone on the news about it.
The young lad can’t fully put his mind to it, how while he was drowning in their thoughts and memories, Taeyong had lost his.
How now that he learned and realized that his love for Taeyong only grew and got deeper, the elder’s love for him had vanished, devoured by the fire.
Looking at the simple, white wall clock near his bed, at the hotel he was staying at, Doyoung recalls his conversation with Taeyong last night. How Taeyong confirmed with his curious gaze if he is Doyoung, his ex-lover. How he nodded and told him I am, and left him again after that, telling him that he’ll come back after thinking things through.
With his head still throbbing because of the sleepless night that he just spent thinking, Doyoung asked himself again, what can I do now? And while pondering about it, trying to fight his drowsiness, he also asked himself, will I be able to fight for Taeyong now? Am I capable of loving him now the way Taeyong deserves to be loved? And in between those thoughts, he lost and drifted off to slumber.
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Doyoung, aside from needing time, also needs Taeyong. Terribly. Waking up in the afternoon, having only that answer in mind, the lad quickly showered, clad himself with the only clothes that he has in his car (since his things are still at Johnny’s place), and drove straight to their house.
Looking at every angle, every perspective that the world could offer, one thing was only true to Doyoung: no matter what, he needs Taeyong. And no matter what happens, he’ll try hard to be capable of being the man that Taeyong would want—that Taeyong deserves.
Taeyong was watering the plants when he reached their place again. He wears this beautiful, familiar smile that Doyoung knows by heart, asking him, maybe just to confirm, “Doyoung, right?”
And Doyoung nodded. Because he is Doyoung, Taeyong’s ex-lover, the man that he used to love, and the man that still loves him now—deeply, tremendously, in any and every way.
“Hi… Taeyong. I am Doyoung…”
Taeyong’s hand is still warm, soft, and perfectly fitted with Doyoung’s. The blooming flowers and even the sun also shy away because of his everlasting beauty when he beams, and Doyoung feels his heart melting.
Entering their once-shared space is like entering the same house from their past. From the furnishing to their appliances, everything looks exactly the same except that Doyoung’s trails were no longer there. His blue slippers in the doorway, his pictures with Taeyong in the hallway, the apron that Taeyong bought for him on their third anniversary when they decided to move in—all of them are now gone.
“You know, Doyoung… I may have forgotten everything about you, but I will be able to remember you now.” Taeyong utters, offering a timid smile as he also hands him a cup of tea. And sitting beside him, he added, “They said that my mind’s like a blank slate as of now—and that I am fully capable of adding new memories… and Doyoung… a lot of space is still free for you to take.”
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Several months later...
It seems like, despite his amnesia, Taeyong didn’t change like their lovely abode. He was still as forgiving, as admirable, as honest, bold, and lively—and he still wears his heart on his sleeve. For the past months, all Doyoung could see whenever he was around the older is the same person that he used to love—that he still loves; and he realizes that will never change.
However, like their once rosy pink gate, Taeyong’s somewhat gloomier and guarded now. There are days when he would doubt Doyoung and his motives; there are nights when he would cry himself to sleep, asking Doyoung what went wrong, what happened, and why he left.
From the day he entered Taeyong’s life again though, Doyoung never left him again.
He was there to recreate their memories when they were still friends: Buying Taeyong’s favorite mint chocolate-flavored ice cream, biking around Han River in the afternoon, watching the picturesque sunset, reading their favorite book, listening to various music, bickering, playing, bickering once more, staying.
Doyoung was there when his first memory of his childhood came back to him. According to the elder, it was just like watching himself on television, it was satisfying, heartwarming, and it was all Taeyong could ask for.
Gradually, for almost seven months, Taeyong’s memories of Doyoung slowly seep all around the places, from the younger’s car when Doyoung subtly held his hand while he was driving, to their living room while they were watching Harry Potter, even in the corner of their room while he was folding his clothes, in his shower, in his bed, in the hallway—and every single one of his memory, Doyoung was always present.
Doyoung was out of town though, for his work, when Taeyong regained his memory of how he ended up living in their shared abode. The idea appeared out of nowhere, they were simply making out on Doyoung’s car then, and it came from the younger’s lips like a bubble. “I want you to live with me.”
“Did you just ask me to marry you?” Taeyong giggles, his lips curved into the prettiest grin. Doyoung shook his head almost immediately, almost shattering his heart, but the shake of his head was then followed by a promise. “Soon I will.”
Doyoung was still out of town then, and Taeyong was washing the dishes when he recalled another familiar memory. He was also doing the chore—washing the dishes—however, in that memory, Doyoung was there, like always, and he was embracing him from the back, sniffing his neck, asking him to finish it faster so they could make love.
The night Doyoung visited him again, straight from his out-of-town trip, Taeyong was on his couch. The sound of his parking vehicle triggers another memory. This time, it’s a memory of that night. Doyoung also just came home from his work, he had just ordered his favorite pizza, the younger approached him with a kiss on the lips, they ate their dinner, washed the dishes like any other night, entered his room to finish his work stuff, and Doyoung came out then, fresh from the bathroom, asking him the dumbest question in the world. "Didn't you... didn't you ask me before to promise you to tell you when my... when I want you to let me go?"
Like that night, Taeyong still couldn’t find it in himself to get angry.
"I will be here... I will be here until the day I move on, only then will I leave."
Taeyong was only taken out of his reverie when he hears the doorbell ring. Then he’s rushing towards the door, opening it without hesitations, and there, right in front of him is the man that he has been waiting for all this time. “Doyoung…”
“You didn’t have to run, silly. You missed me that much?” Doyoung teases. Doyoung, Doyoung, Doyoung… his best friend, ex-lover, his current friend again—the man that he had always loved, the man that he will always long for.
“Doyoung, I now remember you.”
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A few weeks later...
Taeyong was sure he had lost it already. After the fire, after almost completely wiping it off his mind, and after remembering it once more, he no longer paid much attention to it. He thought, there was no sense in thinking about something that he had lost already because of the fire. Yet, a few weeks later, when his mother learned that his memories about his past are now back, it also came back to him like Doyoung.
“I’m going to buy it,” Taeyong mutters, nibbling his lower lip.
After several seconds of waiting, the employee gave him the ring that he picked. It’s a rose gold band, looking exquisite and fancy—in Doyoung’s ring size, by the way—definitely perfect for his long and dexterous fingers.
“Where…” Taeyong started, his throat feeling a little dry as he stares at the ring that his mother handed him.
“We found it in your room the same day they ceased the fire… the side of your room wasn’t affected much and we saved the things that were still fine… then we saw that…” Mrs. Lee replied, taking his son’s hand, affectionately gazing at him. “You planned to propose to him?”
Taeyong nodded. Breathlessly muttering, “I did.”
He planned to propose to Doyoung on their anniversary—which was supposed to happen three nights following their breakup. Things didn’t go as he wanted to though, unfortunately. Seeing the ring… not only reminds Taeyong of the day he bought it for the younger. Seeing it comes the flashing memories of every minute, day, and week that he had loved Doyoung—and his heart feels warm just by thinking about all of it.
The night he told Doyoung that he finally remembers him, the younger got too stunned to speak at first. He thought, Doyoung thought, it was already the end of them, right at the time he just planned to ask Taeyong if they could start all over again. But. But. Taeyong held his face right there and then—wiping off all his worries, his fears. He’s looking at Doyoung with tears in his eyes, but despite that, there is only love in them.
Not anger.
Not hate.
Not resentment.
Just love.
“Doyoung… did you come back for me?”
“Taeyong, I’m so… so… sorry… I was so stupid. I thought… I thought…”
The thing is, without any words, inside of him, Taeyong already knows. There’s a side of him that already understood why Doyoung left that night. And as a person who grew up with him, and stuck with him, he believes he knows Doyoung more than he knows himself. He knows when the younger’s mad, when he’s feeling lonely, when he needs his alone time—he knows.
He knows his history by heart, how he doubts his own family’s love for him, everything. Deep inside him, he had always known and he wholeheartedly understands.
“I love him, eomma…” Taeyong mumbles, surrendering to his mother’s welcoming embrace. “I love him. I love Doyoung… so so much…”
A soft pat was then given to Taeyong’s shoulder, followed by a poke on his rosy cheek. And then, the words—the push—that he needed so much to hear, “It isn’t late yet, Yong-ah.”
"You have all the time that you need."
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Taeyong drove home that night, feeling lighthearted, giddy, and warm. He planned to call Doyoung (his self-proclaimed suitor now, by the way) and found out that he no longer needed to as the young lad is already waiting for him—clad in his casual white Tee, partnered by a comfy-looking sweatpants—standing right in front of their abode.
The constant thing about Doyoung that Taeyong surely loves is the way he makes him feel breathless. It doesn’t matter if he’s three miles away from him and they’re just on a phone call; if he’s two steps away from his reach; or if he’s inside him. Doyoung could make him feel breathless in a good, healthy, and comfortable way.
“Doie…”
The constant thing about Taeyong that Doyoung surely loves, on the other hand, is the way he makes him feel seen—home. Whether it be from the way he calls him names (sweet ones), the way he nuzzles his face on his chest, enveloping him in a tight hug, or just by simply running to him. Taeyong is always there.
That must be the reason why he was no longer surprised when Taeyong appeared right in front of him, as fast as he could, as soon as he parked his car beside his.
“There’s something that you do not know, Doyoung~” Taeyong singsongs, his eyes glinting with pride and happiness, and the same love that he used to shower the younger. “I remember it all too well though… I remember everything about you, about this, and I am certain of it.”
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A year later...
“Apparently, Doyoung… I’ve planned to marry you.”
Among all the questions and uncertainties, Taeyong's most certain about this one definite thing: his love for Doyoung will never reach its end.
Doyoung, on the contrary, believes that he will never be able to marry—afraid that he’ll end up having a family like his own. Terrified that he’ll fail as a father, a husband. That is, until he fell deeply in love with Taeyong. Now, here he is, standing in front of the most ethereal human on earth, holding his hand, and preparing himself to hear his soon-to-be husband’s vow.
“I… never believed the doctors when they said that I’ll be… able to get my memories back by living in a familiar home…” Taeyong started, looking at him, gazing at their guests, then staring at him again, “Because… really, nothing was familiar for me when I moved into our house again…”
“The bed is just the same as the one that I have in my room at my parents’ place, the living room was too spacious for me, the kitchen was too empty… the hallway was somehow isolating… until there was you.”
“And… the moment you entered my life again, I realized that they were right, Doie… They were right that it’ll be easy for me to remember things again when I’m in a familiar home. And… and the moment you entered our house, the moment you invaded my space—you filled everything with colors, all over again…”
“I now remember you with all of my mind, my soul, and my heart… because I am already home again…”
“Doyoung… Doie… my love,” Taeyong calls him, as if it’s the first time—as if it will be his last. “Doie… with my old memories of you, and all of our new… with my heart that still and will always beat for you… I will be here… and I will never leave… nor let you leave… and I will always want to stay. I will always want you to stay.”
“Doie… I will keep on choosing you.”
Taeyong’s mind might have been wrecked, his memories might have been dismantled by the fire, but his heart has always been whole. Even after all the things—especially after all the things—that happened to him, his love for Doyoung persevered.
And it will continue to be that way, until his last breath.
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Taeyong had always dreamt of this—may he be awake or asleep. He had always visualized how he will spend his honeymoon with his beloved Doyoung, and every time, it never fails to make his heart skip a beat. Waking up beside his lover is a genuine delight, a precious memory that he will keep with him to his grave. Doyoung’s perfect features, the way he breathes, the way he smells, he snores—if he’s able, he will tuck them all inside the pocket in his mind, and he will protect it with all his might, so no matter what happens to him, he will always have him.
“Yongie, baby… sleep some more…” Doyoung groans, sounding a little annoyed that Taeyong is now awake when the sun isn’t even up yet.
As the bratty partner that he is, the elder quickly shook his head, rubbing his pointy nose to his lover’s chin, waking him up. “Doieee, you promised that we’ll open your ex’s gift for us. Come ooon!”
The thing is, ever since Doyoung had invited his ex, Johnny, on their wedding day (since, hey, they’ve decided to become friends), Taeyong never stopped bugging him about it. Whenever he would ask him to stop, Taeyong would tell him that he was just a little curious about what happened, and how he realized that he was still in love with him—not Johnny, not anybody else.
And it’s actually endearing in some way, not until he’s suddenly asking about it in the middle of their makeout session, did you think about kissing me while you’re kissing your ex? Or in the middle of their petty fights, while they’re eating dinner, and worse, in the middle of the night. “Taeyong, it’s 3 A.M. You’re shining, alright, but baby you’re not the sun. Sleep some more.”
Well, in Taeyong’s defense, he actually loves hearing Doyoung’s compliments whenever he would act bratty. Johnny is a good man, alright—and he will never ever get jealous of him (okay, maybe just a tiny bit), but the point is, Doyoung was, and is his only lover. While Doyoung, he wandered and experienced a little more, and Taeyong is curious about it—how he ended up coming back home to him.
The next thing he knows, Doyoung is already taking Johnny’s gift in their luggage. Taeyong specifically asked for it before the day of their flight to Paris for their honeymoon—oh, Paris, the city of love.
Promptly opening the gift of his husband’s ex for their wedding, the older couldn’t help but smile. Then, he’s squealing, obviously delighted by the picture frame that Johnny had gifted them. Because what was inside of the picture frame is their picture—a photo that was taken when Doyoung was putting their wedding ring on his finger. It is prepossessing, romantic, perfect for a country like Paris—perfect to summarize their love story. Oh, Taeyong would surely place it in their living room.
“You dropped something, Yong-ah…” Doyoung sleepily mumbles, taking the elder’s attention off the picture frame. Blindly searching for it with his hand and seeing what it is made the younger gulp though, instantly taking back what he just said. “Never mind, baby… it’s nothing…”
“No, there was something, I felt it earlier. It was just tiny, search for it, please.”
“It was nothing,” Doyoung insisted, trying to subtly put it inside the pocket of his pajama, but promptly failing because Taeyong was able to quickly spot it. “You’re hiding it!”
“It’s just a condom!”
The sun isn’t still up yet, nevertheless, their hotel room right then was already filled with Taeyong’s joyous giggles—and that, that is enough for Doyoung to conclude that his day is already complete.
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On their way back to their house, riding Doyoung’s car—since they already sell Taeyong’s, just for the romance of riding the same car to work—the younger had asked Taeyong to take his necktie from his bag. Albeit a little curious why the younger have a necktie on his bag when they were out on their honeymoon, which, by the way, has been casual the whole time, Taeyong no longer inquired as he was still completely spent from their trip.
He couldn’t help but ask why though, when his husband asked him to use it as a blindfold.
Doyoung simply answered him with a smile, then a firm squeeze on his thigh, wordlessly telling him that he should just oblige. Therefore, he did. And along their short ride to their house, all Taeyong could do was wait.
Upon feeling the halting of their car, Taeyong feels his heart erratically beating in his chest—so much to the point that he could also hear his pulse in his ears. Feeling the eagerness washing all over his body, Taeyong lets out a soft whine, earning a soft chuckle from his beloved who’s obviously adoring the state that he’s in. “Wait a minute, lovely.”
The older then hears him opening his door on the driver’s side, closing it, and opening the other one beside him. “Take my hand,” He then hears Doyoung’s command; and without complaints, he reaches for it immediately, it’s almost as if it was his only way to live.
Left foot, right, left. It took them exactly eight steps before Doyoung asked him to stop; and at that point, he could feel him removing the tie that had been covering his eyes—and oh, how Taeyong loves his husband’s wedding present. Their gate is now painted rosy pink again.