124.
#I Miss You
As Dawoon boarded the bus, it was filled with young people around his age. Various languages could be heard mixing inside the bus. Fortunately, the guide was using English, so there was no problem with communication.
“Are you alone?” the guide sitting next to Dawoon asked. Dawoon just nodded in response.
“Most people come in groups of two or three, but these days, there are many who come alone too,” the guide added, seemingly trying to comfort him. Dawoon just smiled faintly and turned his head to look out the window. It was already pitch black outside, and nothing could be seen. Being away from the urban area made the view even darker.
“I wonder if we’ll be able to see it well today,” the guide mumbled, almost to himself. “The weather hasn’t been good for the past few days, so everyone left disappointed. This really depends on luck, you know.”
He kept talking, seemingly not caring whether Dawoon was listening or not.
“The weather forecast looks promising for today… By the way, you can understand what I’m saying, right?” he asked seriously when Dawoon showed little reaction to his chatter.
“I understand,” Dawoon replied. The guide’s eyes widened in surprise at Dawoon’s more fluent English pronunciation than expected.
“Where are you from? Korea? China? Japan?” He rattled off East Asian countries.
“Korea,” Dawoon answered.
“I thought so,” the guide said, though it wasn’t clear what had made him think Dawoon was Korean. He excitedly shared stories he had heard from Korean tourists before, adding that he would love to visit Korea someday if he got the chance.
As Dawoon listened to the enthusiastic talk about K-pop and Korean dramas, topics he wasn’t particularly interested in, the bus arrived at its destination. Like the other passengers, Dawoon put on his scarf and hat, fully bundling up before getting off the bus.
It was a pitch-black open field all around. Some people were murmuring, wondering if this was the right place. Some had their phone cameras or DSLRs out, ready to shoot, but it remained quiet for a long time. More and more people were going back into the bus, saying it was too cold to wait outside. Just as the guide was frowning and saying it probably wouldn’t happen today while glancing at his watch repeatedly, someone shouted.
“Look! Over there!”
At someone’s cry, everyone who had been milling about turned their heads simultaneously. One part of the sky, which had been full of stars as if sprinkled with silver dust, slowly began to turn blue. Exclamations of wonder burst out from all directions, and everyone started taking pictures of the sky with their cameras.
Dawoon also turned on his camera, focusing on the area where the aurora was starting to spread, and began recording a video. The blue light unfurled like a curtain, becoming more and more vivid. The stars densely dotting the sky above the aurora added to the spectacular scene. It was a beauty that couldn’t be fully described with any known words.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay going alone?” Choi Seon-gyeom had worried when Dawoon said he no longer needed a guide after moving to Europe, but he agreed to follow Dawoon’s wishes.
“Did you receive what I sent through someone? Take it with you. It’ll be helpful.”
What he had sent was a hefty camera. He told Dawoon to take pictures of whatever he wanted to capture and to look back at them slowly later. At the time, Dawoon had wondered why he was given such a thing when he didn’t know what to photograph. However, as he traveled alone and gradually captured more and more scenery, he realized Choi Seon-gyeom’s intention.
Photos couldn’t capture reality exactly as it was. No matter how beautiful the scenery, when captured in a photo, something always felt lacking. Realizing that he couldn’t preserve what he saw with his eyes in photos, he started taking videos instead. While videos still couldn’t fully capture the vast beauty of reality, they reduced the regret of missing something.
The world seen through the camera lens was like watching a movie slightly detached from reality. It made him feel more separated from the world. The people and scenery seen through the camera seemed like a different world. As he repeated this process, the numerous worries he had seemed to gradually become insignificant.
What had he been living so fiercely for? Trying to look good, striving to be a good child… All those actions had no meaning in this vast nature. Whether Dawoon did something or not, nature flowed and changed silently but steadily according to its own laws.
“There’s nothing as small as a human being. There will come a moment when you feel like just a tiny dot.”
Choi Seon-gyeom’s words after sending the camera were right. He had been living so seriously, as if carrying all the world’s worries on his shoulders, when he was just a mere dot.
“Aren’t you cold?”
Turning towards the voice, Dawoon saw a man who had come with his lover embracing the woman’s waist from behind not far away. The woman turned back and smiled prettily. It was a scene where anyone could feel that they loved each other.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
When was it? Once, when Dawoon suddenly said he wanted to see snow, Hayun had taken him all the way to Gangwon-do. As Dawoon was mesmerized by the snow-covered landscape, Hayun had draped his large coat over Dawoon’s shoulders and said those words. Yet he didn’t tell Dawoon to go back inside. There were hand warmers inside the coat, though Dawoon didn’t know when Hayun had put them there. Until Dawoon had his fill of the snowy scenery, Hayun stayed by his side without saying much.
Whenever Hayun came to mind unexpectedly at the sight of other couples, Dawoon felt bitter. Traveling alone made him realize this even more acutely.
To Jeong Hayun, Jeong Dawoon was a lover. Since that night when Dawoon first fell into his arms, Jeong Hayun had never treated Jeong Dawoon as a brother.
It was Dawoon’s own stubbornness to believe that all of Hayun’s kindness was because he was his brother, that he was treating him well because he was his brother. Because only then could he resent Hayun, asking how he could do such a thing to his brother.
It was understandable to be confused. Hayun had always been affectionate even when they were brothers.
Making excuses to himself, Dawoon thought that maybe he had never been a brother to Hayun from the start. Maybe Hayun had been affectionate from the beginning with different feelings, not because Dawoon was his brother. Since Hayun said he had known Dawoon wasn’t his biological brother since middle school, it was reasonable to suspect this.
“I might not have been a good father, but I never really resented him. Because he left me you as a gift.”
“I can’t give you to anyone. You’ve been mine from the start.”
No. That wasn’t it. Hayun had clearly stated that nothing would have changed even if Dawoon had been his biological brother.
He had never been a brother. Not for a single moment. It was only Dawoon who had clung to brotherly love.
So, are you upset about it?
When he asked himself this, no answer came. It was shocking. Both the fact that he wasn’t his father’s child and that Hayun had deceived him so perfectly for such a long time were shocking. He even felt betrayed by Hayun.
But he wasn’t upset. Although it wasn’t the brotherly love he had wished for, Hayun had always given him overflowing affection. He couldn’t deny that.
Throughout his 20-some years of life, Hayun was the person who loved Jeong Dawoon the most. He was the only one who tried to protect Jeong Dawoon from everyone else.
“You shouldn’t have done that. If you hadn’t, it would have been easier to let go.”
As he muttered to himself, white breath poured out and dispersed into the air. Regardless of his aversion, Jeong Hayun’s affection, etched to the bone, still troubled Dawoon from time to time. Even now, he told himself more than a dozen times a day that he should forget, that it was a wrong start from the beginning, but all the traces Hayun left kept popping up no matter how much he tried to erase them, still filling Dawoon’s insides.
If the goal was to engrave Jeong Hayun into every part of Jeong Dawoon’s life, it had certainly succeeded. Unless he became a completely different person, not Jeong Dawoon, it seemed impossible to completely erase Jeong Hayun. Jeong Hayun was present even in the most trivial memories.
How well had he tamed a person? Looking back at himself and recalling his relationship with Hayun, he couldn’t even laugh. Jeong Dawoon knew nothing but Jeong Hayun. Although it was Hayun who had made it that way, Dawoon had never tried to break free either.
He couldn’t just blame Hayun. Although it was uncomfortable and awkward, he had never truly, sincerely disliked it. Rather, he had always relied on him and never even imagined Hayun not being by his side. Even when he saw other women approaching Hayun, he had thought, “Do you know who that man is embracing?”
I’m worse.
As he reached this self-deprecating conclusion, a sigh escaped. On the other hand, he wondered if this too might be the result of being gaslighted by Hayun.
If the memories cling so persistently that they can’t be erased for even a moment, what should he do? For the past two months, he had consciously tried not to think about it, deliberately wandering through unfamiliar places, but Hayun kept popping up unexpectedly in various places. Now, he didn’t even try not to think about it. The more he tried, the clearer the memories became.
“I miss you.”
He muttered unconsciously while watching the green spectacle spread wide across the night sky. Then, realizing what he had said, he let out a deflated laugh at his own ridiculousness.
His chest hurt as if it was being tightly squeezed. He was getting used to this pain now. But being used to it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, or that it hurt less.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
