Letters



Time has passed. I forgot. You forgave. We moved on.

//

You are dancing together beautifully. Even from the deepest shadows I stand in I can see the love with which you are gazing into her eyes. Perfect. It has always been your second name.
And then you come up to me and slide your arms around my waist and kiss me. And it feels wrong. Because it is not you that I am tasting but her. And it makes me sick.
You break the kiss, and I smile because it hurts too fucking much.
“I missed you,” you say.
And I laugh.

//

It’s been three years. And I do not want you anymore.

//

A friendly banter which is only slightly awkward. We have grown up. We have changed. We laugh and make jokes. And when somebody asks you about your true love, you say, that once you thought you had found it.
“And what happened?” somebody asks.
You look at me and say, “It didn’t work out.”
I swallow the pain and a shot of vodka.

//

It’s been four years. And I do not miss you anymore.

//

Linked arms and entwined fingers. Your ring is almost identical to hers. So young, so much in love with each other.
Laughter and drinks are spilling everywhere. You are sitting next to me, your thigh is touching mine.
“Yoochun?”
I look at you and see you smile and squeeze the hand of your ‘other half’ and say to me, “I found your old letters yesterday”.
I turn away for a moment, wishing I could pretend I didn’t hear.
“And?”
You are still smiling, “I felt kind of nostalgic…”

//

It’s been six years. And I do not own you anymore.

//

“Yeah,” I say, “yeah, I have those somewhere too.”





April 8, 2007