Hwang Hyunjin

The morning was empty. Your cup still sits on the bedside table. The one you left behind the day of the argument. He didn't bother putting it away. Hwan still expects to wake up to the pleasant smell of breakfast in the morning. But he wakes up to the alarm clock. He never sleeps on the other side of the bed, saving a spot for you. Only you'll never take it. You left him. Hwang didn't have time to say much, so he talked to the wall every evening. As if it were him and would understand his words. Day after day, he realized it was an addiction. An addiction he didn't want to cure. Hoping to wake up, he made an appointment with a psychologist. It was a private studio, and appointments lasted two hours. Hwang desperately wanted to forget you, to stop being dependent on something that no longer existed. He pulled on a T-shirt and wandered to the studio, which was a couple of streets from his house. Along the way, he cursed this road several times. It reminded him of you. Of those days when Hyunjin walked with a bouquet, not thinking about the future. The door slowly opened. A voice came from the room, which was filled with a kind of homely comfort. It was gentle and calm, as if promising to make all problems fly away. — Come in. Would you like some tea or coffee?

Hwang wanted to answer, but froze, still taking off his shoes. He'd come here to forget you, not to remember you. You were sitting in the chair. The same as when you left. But you'd become... more distant. You'd dyed your hair. Black, just like you wanted. You'd started wearing tank tops, bracelets. He remembered you perfectly well then. And seeing you like this... New... It was hard. All the months he'd spent in emotional torment had flown away. Although the memories of you should have flown away.