This should be easy. I should know who I want to be with. I should know who I love. It should be as thoughtless as breathing. But it isn’t. I close my eyes and drop my head into my hands. I’ve been awake for 18 hours now, sitting in this chair at my desk. I don’t know if my intention was to get work done or if I just wanted to finally make a decision, but neither has happened.
“I THINK BANG PD HAS FINALLY LOST HIS MIND,” you said to your fellow trainee and best friend, Inha. “that’s the only explanation for this.”
It had been twenty-four hours since Sihyuk made the decision of you joining Bangtan as the eighth member public. After that, it was only mass pandemonium and hysteria. You were ordered to terminate all of your social media accounts and even had to get a new phone. The only contacts allowed in it were your immediate family and friends.
And despite all of this chaos, you still had yet to see the boys. Not that you were complaining. They were probably they last people you wanted to see right now.
“Hey, on the bright side,” Inha was scrolling through her still-existent Twitter account, “you’ve been trending on Twitter ever since Bang PD made the announcement.”
Alex is an odd little enigma. There is no family to contact, no immediate family that visited him and it was all rather weird. Some might say even suspicious, like he just appeared from thin air though insisted he is quite serious. Alex had this contagious smile and enthusiastic outlook on things. The room warmed up when he entered and he gave most of his comrades a sense of security around him. He is nothing but benign to everyone he meets, and not to mention he is a ridiculously good shot.
It comes as a surprise when he is told to meet with Lt. Simon Riley, opting to think of the negatives here; a worry wart of sorts. So there he stood at attention, out of respect and common demand of his lower rank. “Private McTyre, sir.”
There’s the paradox: we see the beauty and we see the dark side of things; the cornfields and the full sails, but the ashes as well. The Japanese have a word for this dual perception: mono no aware. It means something like “beauty tinged with sadness.” How is it that we must hold what we love tight to us, against our very bones, knowing we must also, when the time comes, let it go?
“ We’re moving on. But just because we’re leaving, and that hurts, there are some people who are so much a part of us they’ll be with us no matter what. They are our solid ground. Our north star. And the small clear voices in our hearts that will be with us. Always. “