Work Text:
The solemn change of time, the drastic, freezing winters that had passed by—a painful reminder that had been akin to the harsh coldness seeping into the efforts of my demise’s concealment—along with the symbolization of time’s embodiment, its continuous and languid pacing that kept on hinting at the dread of knowing that you'd never be whole again.
From the very beginning, I knew for a fact that if it weren’t for my story, you wouldn't have found your salvation to keep on going. That had also granted me the self-consolation and instinct to hold on for a little longer, just for that small, simple factor—in which it had been for your sake.
The years and years of what I thought had been wasted for you—it had only given me the growing realization that there truly never was a single second that felt wasted. 13 years? 50 years? That isn’t plenty, and it never has been.
Truthfully, it only proves that we never really had enough time. Yet despite all of that, I can’t help but yearn for that very moment where we would meet under better and different circumstances.
Even in my last moments and from the final heaves of my breath—Kim Dokja, you’re all of me that will remain, you know? You are the very being that engraved itself into the entirety of me, and yet you are also the only one that managed to bring me down into an indecipherable mess. It makes me wonder if you have even the faintest idea of what you’ve done to me.
Thus, the thought itself makes me feel a bit bittersweet, but subtly hopeful, to say the least. So, if time would permit it—then until next time, okay?