A/N: I am so sorry for the delay, guys. But you all must know how hard school is. Anyway, I tried my best to come up with something which doesn’t disappoint any of you. You all looked forward to it so much, the last thing I could do was write something disappointing. Criticisms are most, most, most welcome. Please lemme know how you feel of it.
And, while writing this I was listening to my UB’s beautiful song, I hope he brought out the best in me.
Love, Admin Ayu ♥
“Y/n, I love you to the point I can’t function and process things
properly when I think of you. You’re all I think about, and loving you has
taught me to care about so many other things I never even found important. I
love you so much it – it numbs me…” he sniffed by the end of the sentence, not
being able to look you in the eyes, “If you give me one chance to make you
happy, I swear to keep you the happiest, and never ever hurt you, ever. I love
you, y/n” he took your hand in his large, trembling ones. His tears fell on the
back of your hands, and you looked up at him, your senses filled with awe and
admiration, and mostly love.
“You fill the void in my heart with love and hope.”
And, you had left everything for him. Your job, your home, your town, your
family and friends; everything. All the sacrifices you had made back then didn’t
feel so at all, since you were in love him. However, you were at a point in
your life where you had already left behind so many things, that you could care
less, very less.
Shortly after he left you, you applied for a visa to Paris. You had
always dreamed of settling down in the city which itself was the most beautiful
embodiment of art and love in your eyes. However, you had never thought the
time would come so fast, you had never thought that circumstances will force
you to adapt to an environment you were planning to embrace when you were much older,
in the arms of your just-as-old significant other.
But you had to, all by yourself, leaving your 10-month-old baby at
Johnny’s doorsteps. The fact that you had exhibited the vilest of all cowardice
was a fact not left unknown to you. But you couldn’t process properly,
couldn’t stop your head from dizzying furiously around your own little world
whenever anything that could even merely indicate to him came around. Your
little daughter was no less than a personification of the love you two once
shared, or at the very least the love you had for him.
So one bright morning, you gently placed your sleeping daughter at his
doorstep, with only a letter and a bank account number from which he would
receive some money every month for your daughter’s expense.
And you left.
Paris was a beautiful city, a wonderful place to live in. Your love for
art had reincarnated, which was overshadowed by your love for him for what it
felt like ages. It offered you with the love you thought that none but only
living beings could offer. When you went to Paris where even walls screamed
creativity and art, it seemed to you as if all the emotions ever felt in
heavens and on earth were gathered in that one city, and you could finally
belittle your own sorrow.
Six years flew by and you turned thirty-five. You had managed to make
new friends but no one gave you the feeling you had left behind, the love of a family. You wanted to see your daughter, who was to turn seven in two
months. For her sake you had kept in touch with him through letters and he
told you everything there was to know. You knew every little detail of her, and
you were glad to know that his wife was fulfilling all her roles a mother
usually does, quite willingly.
She loves our daughter as her own,
y/n. Only if you could get to see the bond they share, I’m sure you’d have
asked for nothing more in life.
Her eyes are just like yours, her smile and
her frown are yours too. She is so beautiful, and when she says my name in
answer to people’s inspection of her father, she sounds just like you.
I realised something recently,
her birthmark is also beneath her navel! She’s just a younger version of you,
Somewhere in between the
exchange of such mails you grew to love him more, and you detested that grow
within you. The years you spent in Paris, you spent them expecting to fall in
love with someone, but that never really happened. You couldn’t find anyone you
could give your heart to the way you had surrendered it to Johnny, and the
love you felt so greatly for him prior to your new life had influenced all
other loves you could feel. None of them came to you as feverishly as your love
for Johnny had. So, you never felt enough zeal or fortitude to infuse in the
thriving quest to pursue any of them.
However, his letters could also influence you to a good point, almost
just as well as he himself used to. So after a month or two of your
birthday, you took out a small luggage from the back of your cupboard,
selecting the necessary commodities and clothes with caution for a week of
stay. You were not planning to do much. Just meet some old friends, your old
boss and colleagues, the loving neighbours you had when you were a Mrs. Suh,
and take a look at your daughter from afar.
The fifteen-hour-journey had left you
jetlagged, but your heart thumped hard against your chest as you took in the
view of Seoul from your hotel room. You had a smile stretching your lips, though
quite uncertain of how to label it. Because you couldn’t deny the glee, nor
could you totally diminish the poignancy in your heart.
Before you knew it the day of your departure had arrived. The flight
was due an hour before midnight, so you had the day to yourself. As planned, you
went to the park where your daughter played every Sunday.
You were wearing a snapback, your hair tied up, a muffler wrapped around your
neck covering the lower half of your face. You discreetly stood
behind a tree, and it took you less than a minute to spot your daughter among
the kids. ‘Oh lord…’ you thought to
yourself, ‘She looks even more like me up
close.’ The photos surely did a poor job to highlight the resemblance she
held to you.
You silently shed tears with a proud smile as you observed your daughter.
She was a lively child with the brightest smile, her heart open to
experimenting new things and welcoming new kids and befriending them. She
bonded well with everyone around, and to your delight, everyone received her
just as well. While taking the pleasure of seeing your daughter, you kept an
eye out for Johnny and his wife, who were supposed to be at the nearby church.
However, surprises come to you from where you least expect it.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” You heard Johnny’s voice say from
behind you, your shoulders jerking to the presence you didn’t wish for,
“Welcome back to Seoul, y/n.”
You wanted to turn around to see his face for
once, up close. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so any longer. So you turned
your head a little to the side, whispering an apology and a goodbye; before closing
your eyes and running to the car your had borrowed, getting in it in a hurry
and driving away.
You wiped your last tears as you
sipped your third cup of coffee, rereading Johnny’s letter for the umpteenth time. A week after your return to Paris, you received his letter and took
it to your favourite café by Seine River, Cojean Louvre.
Y/n, I won’t blame you for running away from me. I do realise it must
have been hard for you to have found me when that is probably the last thing
you wanted on your visit. It’s okay, don’t feel bad about having bailed on me so
harshly. I just hope you find love, I really do. I hope someone fills the void in your heart with love and hope, too.
“I just hope you find love, I
really do.” “I hope someone fills the void in your heart with love and hope, too.”
His kindness was driving you to an extreme point of insanity, and the only way to
return from it was to invest yourself in what you loved the most. In your head,
you had already started putting colours together in a beautiful harmony,
thinking of how to spill them on your white canvas later on.
However, before your trail of thoughts could set a proper and aligned order to
satisfy you, the man who was occupying the table behind yours spoke up in
“Coffee is not very good for your health, why don’t you try some
Street artist INSA is merging graffiti and photography to make street art GIFs. The artist paints over a wall several times - photographing the process. He then stitches together the photos and turns them into GIFs.