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October 22, 2024 at 1:43 AM
i find it crazy i’m in my notes app for the fifth time this week.
if i were writing lyrics at this rate i would’ve released a full album
by now.
but to be honest, there’s been a lot on my mind recently.
well, there has been for awhile now,
specifically since the whole thing came crashing down.
you know, when people go through tough situations
they usually try to move as far as they can from the issue.
i wish that were easy but even if i were to move back to australia
i’d be terribly lonely given i never kept in touch with anyone but my family.
there’s also the option of going to another country,
but at this point people across the world know about my mistakes.
sometimes i wonder if this’ll ever smooth over.
i wonder what leo ten years from now will look back on.
is this a rough patch in my path or is this really my demise?
the thought of living like this forever scares me,
but i can’t blame anyone but myself.
i’m not sure if i’m selfish to think this,
and i know all these words are coming out spontaneously,
but i really wish the world would be a little nicer to me.
i know i’ve fucked up and not everyone has to accept my apology,
but if i’m honest,
it’s beginning to feel hard to hold on to myself.
it’s expected not everyone will love me.
that’s just how humans are.
you can’t satisfy everyone but you do your best
for those who love you.
i think that’s why i’m still going.
even if it’s just my parents and sangwon-ie that stand behind me,
i will put in everything to not disappoint them.
i will cherish everything they do for me
and give it back to them in my own ways.
you got this, lee leo.
you know there’s a part of yourself that still wants to keep going.
why give up now when you’ve come so far?
—
It was raining again.
Not the light drizzle that tickled the surface of your skin, or the occasional shower you could dance in. There was nothing movie-like about the empty streets or drowning trees planted near an apartment complex.
It was pouring again.
Heavy droplets coated every pitiful inch of concrete, seeping into gutters with an ugly noise. Even the orange glow of lamp posts had been muted by the gloom, shining pitifully on a burnt out silhouette seated on the edge of the sidewalk.
Leo’s dark hair clung desperately to his sunken cheeks, gaze sagging as it fell toward the ground, trembling against the weight of water on his lashes. He could feel his lungs constrict until they went a little numb, the burdensome weight in his throat ceasing to disappear with each hard swallow.
His shadow was still, his shoulders remaining upright. Leo bathed in a quietude that was so painfully rare, it was hard to remember what silence had sounded like.
“Breathe.” He murmured to himself, the night air forcing his frozen lips open.
It was less of a command than a reminder—firm in tone but so brittle on the outside, it’d disintegrate with a simple flick of the finger.
Almost like a broken peanut.
A peanut that was cracked open and reaped of its rewards, leaving only a shell, devoid of its original character. And, at the end of the day, an empty shell was of no use to anyone, so that’s why it was regarded as garbage , thrown to the curb with no one to care for it.
No one would care if he tried to mend the broken pieces. No one would care if he was stepped on or crumbled to dust. No one would care if he let out a breath that was a little too long—so depleted, his sides ached with a desire to be withdrawn from the misery.
How miserable did you have to be where anguish was the only embrace you could receive? How hard did you have to hit rock bottom, when your insecurities were the only source of company?
Life had drained the happiness from Leo’s life, just as the color had drained from his cold complexion, creating a specter—a ghost of what he had once been.
The rain drenched his baggy jeans until they fit flush against his thigh, and the fabric of his t-shirt pressed into his thinned out frame. Leo’s entire mind went blank, leaving only the bitterness of his emotions and the itch of a rising cough.
If this were in the past, he would’ve wrapped himself under the comfort of soft layers, staying welled up in his home with the consolation of a television series.
But now he was here, laying his arms bare, with no real reason to do so.
Perhaps he had surrendered.
Surrendered to the merciless vine that wound higher and tighter, until each of his exhales felt borrowed. Like he was living only to survive, and not because someone missed him or loved him. He’d caved to the voices that bled into his skin, sunk into his flesh, and tainted his bones with stains he couldn’t bleach away, each and every one serving as a reminder that he was unclean or simply, disgusting .
Hatred didn’t strike him like lightning. It eased into him until he slowly melted away, each malicious comment, remark, and ridicule another flame pressed into his tethering figure. The heat carved into him, an uncontrolled fire destroying a candle lost of hope. And when it became too much, when he couldn’t hold on longer, he became a shapeless pool of wax—a victim that collapsed under the audacity of those who abused the anonymity of the internet.
How does one move on knowing the world finds more delight in their decay than their existence? How does one harbor so much malice for a human whose definition is solely the snippets they see online? How does one have the courage to utilize the fact that using one out of a few billion seconds in their life to click a “post” button could ruin and wreck another person’s only lifetime?
And of course, not everyone could love you like family, friends, or fans.
But sometimes Leo wished the world would just be kinder to him.
Sometimes he wished his smile wouldn’t have to feel so rigid, because the effort to fake happiness was much more painful than letting yourself succumb to the sadness. Sometimes there was this sliver of hope that he’d meet the rainbow after the storm, but time and time again he’d only seen hurricanes. Sometimes Leo wished he could turn back the clock, and maybe then he’d land in a universe where he wouldn’t be laying awake in his bed, typing paragraphs of frustration and desperation into his too full notes app.
Tears collected in Leo’s eyes, but he remained strong. He refused to let them tip over.
Because this was his last strand of hope. The one moment he had control over an outcome that didn’t come as fate sealed by the blame of others.
It was raining again in Leo’s world.
And he knew that eventually…
It would suffocate him.
—
November 27th, 2024 at 2:22 AM
is it wrong to say i’m beginning to lose myself?
i don’t know what i can give to the world for them to forgive me.
will this be a mystery i have to ponder until death?
am i going to rot away as a repulsive misogynist ?
it’s stupid to think i’d once wanted to define myself with music.
now that i sit here, i wonder how it’s possible
when no one is willing to listen?
it’s been almost three years since it happened.
i’m 22 now, but why am i still stuck at 19?
yesterday i went out with sangwon-ie to the hill we used to visit
the same one i confessed to him on last year.
the view was still beautiful, you could see the entire city in one panorama.
we just sat there enjoying each other’s company,
listening to the playlist we built together.
sometimes i wonder how sangwon-ie can be so kind.
how can he still believe and rely on me after everything?
he tells me it’s because i’m attentive to him and care for him,
maybe in ways i don’t even realize.
but is that really enough?
is it enough for him to stay by my side?
to promise of forever?
i’m scared one day i’ll drive him away.
he could be loved by people far better than me.
people that could give him the world.
but i’m selfish.
i don’t want to see him go.
no one takes the time to understand me like he does.
no one is willing to listen and let me fall apart like he does.
he treats me like i mean everything when i shouldn’t.
perhaps he walked into my heart
much earlier than i expected.
the moment he stepped in i locked the door
so no one else could walk in and replace him.
but if there comes a day that he wants to leave
then he is free to open the door from the inside.
i love him so much, it hurts.
but i don’t want to see him hurt over me.
he’s too beautiful to be broken.
—
Sangwon stood at the crosswalk, an umbrella in hand.
There was no one around him. Everyone was locked up in their apartments, all cozied up. Probably using the excuse of dodging poor weather to finally relax from the toil of their jobs and studies.
That had originally been Sangwon’s plan: brewing some kimchi-jjigae in the kitchen while playing PARTYNEXTDOOR in the background. Then he would proceed to coop up on the couch and resume the movie he had started last week. Lastly, he’d tuck himself into bed and finish reading the last few chapters of a book to lull himself to sleep.
But none of that had happened.
Maybe it had been intuition, but something had stopped Sangwon before he’d made it through the door of his apartment. There was an ominous premonition that had him re-lacing his sneakers, picking up his tote bag, and grabbing the old umbrella he hadn’t used in years.
It was that exact sense of foreboding that had him running fifteen minutes toward Leo’s complex. His heart raced so violently, to the point he could hear it through his own ears. It didn’t make any sense because he didn’t know what he was expecting, yet adrenaline coursed through each and every vein, sweat tracing his features as his legs suddenly gained the energy to sprint.
Sangwon ran.
He didn’t stop. Even when the water ran into his shoes, he continued. He had to get there. He didn’t know where but he knew if he turned back then he’d never forgive himself.
And while the taste of blood began to rise from his chest, and suddenly all he could hear was the loud hush in his own brain. That’s when Sangwon saw him.
Hunched across the road was an all too familiar frame, curled up helplessly at the edge of the sidewalk—defeated and exhausted to a fragile skeleton.
Dread consumed Sangwon as he neared the resting figure, hating how he recognized the once perfectly fitted sweatshirt the person wore—the one that now appeared several sizes too large. Sangwon hated how the fresh, woody aroma that had once hugged him now burned in his lungs. He hated the way Leo lifted his head at the sight of him, throwing on that grinning mask that should’ve said, “I’m alright,” but trembled with the addendum of, “but I’m not.”
“Leo hyung,” Sangwon breathed, his voice unable to maintain a stable pace. “What are you doing here?”
He knew the answer.
“There was a lot on my mind, so I came out here to organize my thoughts.” Leo responded. His tone was much too careless, like the way someone purposely styled themselves to appear a certain way. Leo shrugged as if what he were doing was normal, yet the avoidance of eye contact sold him out—he was ripping himself apart again.
Leo knew Sangwon could read him like an open book— after all, that’s what he was best at.
Seven years meant transparency even when you tried to hide. Seven years meant a bond that couldn’t be snapped just because outsiders wanted to weave their own narratives. Seven years meant I will be there for you even when the world turns its back on you, because in the very end, I am the one who witnessed your journey. I will stay with you because I know you aren’t the villain people want to paint you to be. I trust you because when I was at my lowest, you were the selfless sun who taught me warmth and blocked out all the noise, even when your own world had gone completely cold.
I love you because even when you’re crumbling you try to love me.
“Hyung.” Sangwon knelt so he and Leo were face to face. The umbrella sheltered them both, forming a delicate space waiting to be filled. Now that they were trapped under the protective barrier, the thumping of rain became white noise. It was just the two of them—raw and stripped of defenses.
“Sangwon-ah,” Leo called his name. His voice was lacking in volume, so soft it was barely audible. Yet, still, adoration spilled over the sound so easily, followed by the touch of Leo’s palm against Sangwon’s pale cheek, the skin already wet with tears that had fallen silently. “I’m glad you’re here.”
It was relief dressed in gratitude.
Sangwon knew he was slipping. Had he not made an appearance, Leo would’ve stalled the entire night in the rain. Even if it ended with him terribly sick in the hospital and attached to an IV drip, Leo’s stubbornness would’ve pulled him through, dealing with the consequences after the risk had been taken.
“Hyung, let’s go home.”
Sangwon gripped tightly onto Leo’s hand. The one that had frozen red. His voice collapsed on the final word, distress drawing in and out like a tide. Sangwon didn’t know where home was, not when they’d walked and explored too many places. Everywhere was a hideaway, but nowhere was the safety that held them.
Leo’s fingertips were cool on his cheek, like he was using the contact to keep himself steady. Sangwon let his body sink into him, into an embrace that pulled together all the loose threads.
His chin rested on the warm crook of Leo’s neck, listening to the quiet thump of the older boy’s hand on his back. Even now, when he was emotionally splintered, Leo was still comforting Sangwon with all he could muster—whispering a mantra of solace that kept them both from fragmenting.
Everything will be alright if they have each other.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Leo gently stroked the younger one’s loose strands of hair, but the syllables fractured. His knees dug into the side of Sangwon’s hip, latching there as a boat would feel the gravity of a lighthouse. “Go inside, Sangwon-ah. You’re going to get sick.”
“And what about you?” Sangwon retorted. “You’re probably already sick.”
He peeled himself from the hug, his dark pupils burning through the swollenness of his eyes. There was so much anger pent up within the brown ocean, another wave of tears threatening to turn over.
Sangwon’s delicate frame trembled as he furrowed his brow. The hand that was free from holding the umbrella, cupped Leo’s much too prominent jaw. Their bodies were close . He could feel the heat of Leo’s breath against his cracked lips, a feeling that was all too enticing.
He wanted to kiss him.
Sangwon wanted to feed into the warmth of Leo’s mouth, let him consume him and familiarize each curve and edge. He wanted to feel the weight of his hands on his hips, for him to accidentally nibble on his bottom lip, and draw all the breath that remained in his lungs.
He wanted to be loved, he wanted to love him .
Maybe then those savage thoughts would disappear. Maybe then he would forget about the inhuman arrows people tried to shoot into his back. Maybe then he could hear the little notes Sangwon had collected in his heart—the endless slips of “I love yous” and the “I need yous.”
“Don’t do this again.” Sangwon pleaded, the tears finally spilling over.
He leaned forward until their bodies were flush, until he could see the tiniest mole placed at the tip of Leo’s nose. For a moment, Sangwon brushed against the cold lips, letting the desperation linger between them.
It was a peck.
Not the daring statement he had wanted to make, but a feather light display of devotion.
In the brief seconds they’d been connected, Sangwon had transferred each plea and confession into a shaky exhale. He didn’t know if Leo would be able to interpret it, but since the day they’d met, the older one had been patient—filling in the sentences that he couldn’t assemble.
“I love you.”
Sangwon’s declaration was firm.
His stare never left the outline of Leo’s face, memorizing each freckle and eyelash that touched the overwhelmed expression, like a dragonfly’s feet across the pond. Even when he felt the soft pressure of Leo’s lips kissing away his tears, all Sangwon could do was keep his arms wrapped around him, feeling for a heartbeat.
“You don’t need to be anyone else.”
“You don’t have to smile every time you feel pain.”
Sangwon felt his limbs weaken. Each sob racked his frame until he couldn’t anymore. He gave in as his forehead fell against his lover’s, his final whisper telling him he had already done a good job.
There was no need for him to stretch and tear himself to fit into an unrealistic mold. There was no reason others should throw stones at him when he was a bird already too beaten to fly. There wasn’t a single apology Leo owed to a fire that knew only to scream for more wood—not when he had sacrificed every last drop of himself to others’ greed.
“I want to live without the tinnitus of hatred.” Leo slowly unraveled.
It was not a wish, it was a cry for life.
“Where I can smile without the corners of my lips feeling sore, and people will listen to my music and feel anything but the desire to bash at my bones. Where I’m not the antagonist in their stories but a hero for once. ”
But they burned his wings and then blamed him for falling.
“I want to breathe.” Leo laughed mirthlessly. “So my vision doesn’t go black every time I awaken.”
He left his last wish unspoken, knowing it would only break Sangwon further.
I want to become a person you can be proud of—not the monster trying to live up to the savior you believe I am.
I want to give you everything.
Sangwon watched the facade crack on Leo’s face, a broken layer of ice revealing a sea of protected sorrows. All the walls were shed, opening the dam until the water engulfed him. Tears finally escaped the unblinking lids, creating a wet path to the pavement.
“Breathe.” Sangwon told him.
Let the hatred fall around you, but never into you.
People could point and criticize, they could try and manipulate your thoughts, your emotions, your sanity. But what they could never claim as their own were the lungs built inside you—each inhale was a soft pause the world couldn’t take from you.
“I already have everything,” Sangwon whispered, his words conveying a tenderness that couldn't be replicated by anything but the true and raw love for the person before him.
“I have everything because of you .”
The rain stopped.
Leo’s hands shook as they landed loosely on Sangwon’s thin shoulders. He pulled him close, until there wasn’t a trace of air between them. As his gaze sank, languid and determined, Leo felt his lips tremble against Sangwon’s, searching so desperately for a taste of relief.
The kiss was messy, broken, and perfect .
It wasn’t soft nor gentle, it was jagged and frantic—stitching together the fractured bits and pieces hoping they would hold.
Leo’s palms cupped Sangwon’s beautiful features, tongue slipping into an opening of hunger and uncontrolled desire. Fingers tangled into dampened hair, the umbrella long forgotten. Sangwon felt the pressure of Leo’s hands on his waist, smiling between the kiss as they spoke a language only they could understand.
He felt complete, like they were pieces that fit perfectly into each other, and that was all that mattered.
“I love you.” Leo tattooed the confession into his lips.
Right now, and forever.
When I am broken, your love fills my lungs, and I finally know how to breathe again.