3. This Is How I Resent You
Is this supposed to make up for all the time you've never spoken to me? This… piece of paper, filled with your saccharine prose and honeyed words?
It's only been about fifteen minutes since I'd read the letter postmarked from Sweden, but already it feels like a distant memory, the way you are. As I hold the cream-coloured paper in my shaking hands, the unassuming envelope takes the opportunity to escape my grasp, gliding gracefully to the floor and under my bed. I make no move to retrieve it. My feet remain rooted to my bedroom floor.
This just… doesn't feel real.
I'm surprised at my own reaction. Shouldn't I be touched? I am supposed to be an unabashed romantic, after all. My heart should be overflowing with emotions, I should be moved to tears, and I should be falling head over heels in love with you again. But all I feel like doing at this present moment is ripping your words into unrecognizable shreds.
(Breathe, Ga Eul. Breathe)
Am I supposed to forgive you? Just because you took the time out of your busy schedule to praise my beauty and my honesty to the skies? Do you even mean everything – anything – that you said? I would like to believe you, but I don't. I was never like this. I was never such a cynic, but since you left me hanging on without much to hold on to, I've become your biggest.
I've always heard how the eyes are the windows to one's soul, and I never knew what it meant till I looked into yours. How beautiful your soul is.
And what would you see if you saw me now? Resentment? Disappointment? Defeat? You can't possibly think I'm still the same girl that you used to know. Things have changed; YOU – the lack of, even – have changed me, but sadly, it's not for the better.
How strong you are, my dear.
I will myself to read the letter again, this time with a slightly softer heart, and my vision begins to blur. (I knew this would happen.) A bold tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe it away forcefully. Why did you take so long to tell me how you feel? I wish you hadn't left me hanging for so long. Please, Yi Jeong. Stop breaking my heart.
I wish I could stop loving you.
After eons of standing around, I figured it was only polite of me to respond to his letter. And so, I sit down at my study desk, and without even thinking, I begin to write. I hope he's prepared to hear what I have to say. It's been a long time coming.
How pure is your honesty.
