Forget-me-not

Seungmin

It was hard to sleep when your other half was missing. The familiar warmth and the domestic normalcy was gone. Seungmin went from sleeping in a queen sized bed, with Cynthia every evening, to sleeping on his full sized mattress back in his old dorm room. It wasn't the same. 

The scent of Cynthia's peach shampoo was gone. She always smelled like peaches. In fact, that's what her contact name was on his phone; Princess Peach. Not only did she smell like peaches, but Princess Peach was always her go to character for Mario Kart. 

He shifted in the bed for the third time trying to get comfortable. The dorm room was quiet near midnight. Lee Know, Felix, and I.N had all tucked themselves away in their bedrooms. The whole place was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. 

The blankets felt like they were suffocating him. They were annoying while he tried to shift and get himself comfortable. He threw them off and turned one way. When that didn't work, he turned to another. Irritation began to fill him as he sat up. 

He pushed himself off the bed, flipped on the ceiling fan, and crawled back into his bed. His eyes bore into the empty side wall. He took all of his posters and possessions out of the room when he moved into the apartment with Cynthia. All his stuff was still there besides some of his clothes. 

He used to find peace in this room. This was his safe space after working so hard. This was the place he could come to rest and recover. He could recoup until he had to get up and do it again the following day, but now the shut bedroom door had turned into a tomb. 

Humans tend to take things for granted. We live our lives and expect to come home to the people we love. We expect to fall into our lover's arms. We expect our friends to be there in a time of need. We expect our parents to be on standby. All it takes is one second for life to drastically change; one car accident, one heart attack, one stroke, one dumb mistake. 

We get so used to the cycle, we get comfortable with it. Sometimes we forget to say good-bye to each other. Sometimes we say things in the heat of the moment and always expect so and so to wait for us to calm down.

Life can be cruel and time waits for no one. The grim reaper does not bow down to you and neither does fate. Unexpected, unannounced, unforeseen, unanticipated; one second can change your life. 

Seungmin shifted once again and laid on his back. His eyes narrowed up at the ceiling. The ceiling fan circled round and round and supplied a soft whirling. The past had already been cemented and frozen in time, but he wished it could be different. 

If it was different, if he knew what would happen to Cynthia, he would have hugged her a little tighter. He would have inhaled the faint peach scent. He would have gazed into her eyes a few seconds longer and reminded her how much he loved her. 

That morning, he was in a hurry. He overslept by nearly a half hour which cut down his time to get ready to head to the studio. He rushed around their apartment taking large bites out of a granola bar while he slipped off his pajamas and into a presentable outfit. 

Cynthia spoke to him, but he was only half paying attention. Amidst all the rushing and bustling, Cynthia was an afterthought. Swallowing the last bite of his granola bar, he hurried to the bathroom and began to brush his teeth. Before he left the apartment, the two talked briefly. 

Cynthia was going out to run a few errands and buy Christmas presents and Seungmin was headed to the studio. They were going to come home and order takeout to celebrate the beginning of Seungmin's break. Kisses were going to be shared over some new K-drama Cynthia found. 

Are we ever going to kiss again?

Seungmin sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Losing someone you love wasn't instant. The grief process came and went in waves. Sometimes the mourning and sadness lapped at your feet in docile white-water foamy waves and other times grief was a tsunami. 

Scratching began to tickle the sides of his throat. The well-acquainted lump began forming again. He still hadn't grown used to the prickle and sting of oncoming tears. He ripped the pillow from behind his head and shoved it over his face to muffle the sob. 

He pressed the stuffed pillow and fabric over his mouth. His teeth bit into the cotton pillowcase. His chest shook and his bottom lip threatened to quiver. His eyes remained squeezed shut. 

Grief was a painful reminder that his heart still beat.