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I still remember what his corpse looked like. There was blood all over his peach colored suit. Blood dripped from the slit in his neck and his mouth was agape. There was so much blood that it had gotten all over my wedding dress. I screamed, but they thought it was her. They thought it was her screaming. They heard me but thought of her when they saw her backed into the corner like a scared dog with her hands reaching out to protect herself. I shouldn’t have attempted to stab her. I shouldn't have even thought of it. I should’ve cried or screamed for help- but what could’ve I done? My finger prints had littered the cake knife. I had no choice.
Sometimes, when I’m very bored, I think of what I could’ve done to prevent this. I think about how stupid I was at the moment, how I was so blinded by bitter nostalgia and feelings that I couldn’t seem to get over even when I tried to make myself forget about everything that I’ve done. I should’ve kicked her out the first time I saw her. The first time I saw her face in a decade. I should’ve told her to fucking leave before I called the police (but what reason would I have to call the police for?)
I see Myeong-hoon, sometimes. Sometimes when I’m sitting in my cell, reading a book or staring at the wall trying to count the bricks I can faintly see him staring at me in the corner of my cell. Sometimes he’s a shadow, sometimes it’s .. him. Sometimes he’s a figure of pink-white light in the pitch black of the night. I just recently noticed that he still wears his glasses, even in the afterlife, or, I hope to god I’m not hallucinating him.
I had dreamt one time that we were having a picnic together. We were in a little clearing by a forest, eating sandwiches and strawberries (his favorite fruit) and drinking some wine. Then he laid his head down in my lap and played with the hem of my dress.
“I would never lie to you about how much I love you, Da-jeong.” he whispered oh so softly. “Do you promise to never lie to me?”
I run my fingers through his hair and giggle. “Why would I ever lie to you about anything, love?” I responded, beaming. He smiled.
“You’re so beautiful, Da-jeong. You don’t know how lucky I am to have met someone like you.” he said, now bringing his head up to kiss me on the cheek. Then he brings his lips to my lips, and we embrace each other. Then it ended.
I wish we could stay like that forever. Sitting on grassy hills staring off into space while holding each other for dear life. I miss Myeong-hoon more than I miss being free. All I want is for him to hold me again. I want to cry into his arms and tell him how much I love him over and over again until my voice is hoarse. I want to tell him how beautiful of a man he is and tell him how amazing and kind and wonderful of a partner he was. Every single second feels like I’m in pain because of how I grieve for him. I grieve I grieve I grieve.
I will never forget how cold he felt in my arms. All I could do is stare at his face and realize “Is that really him? Is this real?” and sob and sob and sob.
He used to put his arms around me, holding my waist, telling me how beautiful I am while I made breakfast. He used to kiss my cheek before I went to work early in the morning. He used to cuddle me in bed while we watched cheesy dramas on my laptop before we dozed off into a deep slumber. He would put an arm around me and bury his face into my neck, sometimes kissing it. He’d play with my hair, twirling it with his finger and telling me how soft it is. I would lay my head in his lap while watching tv and he’d laugh and laugh. Whenever I came home from work late (if he were awake) he would be waiting on the couch for me, reading a book or watching something before coming up to me and pulling me into a warm kiss. His lips were soft. They were always soft. Every time I kissed him his lips were as soft as silk and when I would run my hand along his side it was also soft.
When he proposed to me it was at a restaurant. One of the nicest restaurants in Seoul. I wasn’t looking at him for a brief second and when I turned around he was on one knee in front of me, holding out the prettiest diamond ring I’ve ever seen in my life. He stared at me back, eyes gleaming so bright you would’ve thought they were obsidian. I cried “Yes!” and almost fell out of my seat to wrap my arms around him. I uncontrollably sobbed in his arms, getting tears all over his suit. I cried so loud that it was embarrassing, god. After we ate we went home and sobbed in each other’s arms until we spoke in croaks.
Everything was almost perfect. I just wanted things to be beautiful. I wanted to be his wife, I wanted to be his everything, his number one fan, his sweetheart. I wanted to grow old together with him. We could interlock our hands and tell each other we made it so far. That we both did everything we could to get here. But now I’m stuck in prison with a bunch of women who I don’t want to associate myself with. I’m here because I pointed a finger at someone who I thought would help me. I had no choice, didn’t I? What else could I have done to stop myself from getting kicked out of the program and risk the disappointment of my mother? To risk the disappointment of everyone around me?
I regretted it. I still do. I regret everything I’ve done that led up to this. I wish I had atoned sooner.
Another dream I had was in the snow. I was unable to get off the ground because of overbearing weight, but then it lifted, and I was finally free. I got up and walked around the dark field of snow until I saw a pinkish light from the distance. I started running towards it. I knew what it was, who it was. When I got closer I saw him, my love, Myeong-hoon, waiting for me on the other side. I fell to the floor, crying, screaming. I blinked, and then he was there. I crawled closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist and sobbed until my voice gave out and I went mute. I stayed there. I didn’t want to leave him. He didn’t even move or say anything, though. He just stared down at me. I couldn’t see his face, but I could make out the silhouette of his hair and clothes. And when I touched him I felt fabric. His suit. The one he wore at the wedding.
Then I woke up in a cold sweat. He wasn’t there anymore. He was gone. I was left looking up at the ceiling trying to remember what the stars in the sky looked like.
One day we’ll both be two figures with bodies made out of crushed little stars. One day I will leave this world and go wherever fate takes me. Hopefully, I’ll get to see you, my dear Myeong-hoon again. Hopefully one day we’ll be reconnected in the paradise humans call ‘heaven’. Our love took time, and so will my death.