DEAR KIM

“Hurry! Hurry! We’ve got to get him to the operating room now or he’ll die!” One of the doctors, a short brunette in his fifties screamed in English while he followed four nurses who rolled a gurney. “If we don’t focus on first aid, he’ll die anyway. He’s lost a lot of blood!” Another doctor spoke in Korean, while she rubbed her coat to get the dark red that stained her skin off her palms. “We’re talking about a bullet to the spine. It might be more than just a lesion!” “That’s why he needs surgery!” “We’re losing him!” “Administer five milligrams of morphine! The man’s in pain!” More doctors argued, others instructed and nurses complied. Patients stared and sirens wailed from a distance. Everything moved. Everyone spoke. Some in whispers and others in yells too loud for the throat on winter. There was life and it made its presence abundant like death who also roamed the halls of the hospital. Death in his cold apparel strolled the hallways within winter’s breeze. My limbs shook and my teeth gritted against my jaws. I could feel the winter creep through the brown leather jacket I wore. The cold grazed my skin and hairs stood at end. My heart felt too heavy to stay in place. It seemed my ribs had taken up all the space in my chest. I could not breathe. I looked at the large window panes. The skies once bright and soaked in a covering of perfect blue had accepted the darkness of the night and arrayed herself in black. No stars were in sight and snowflakes danced unevenly towards piles of white clouds on the earth’s crust. It was a typical winter’s eve but this one was different, it came with fear. Fear that made my knees knock and my heart ache. Fear that made death mock me while life denied hope. Fear that made me turn to the exit over and over, desperately seeking for an excuse to leave. I wanted to leave. I had to. My head hurt in confusion and my heart so fragile could not take anymore. I wanted to leave but I could not. I could not abandon him. Not while he struggled to live. Not while he fought death. I could not leave him. How could I? He had stolen my heart and his still remained with me. It was not fair. My legs grew weak as I followed the doctors and nurses to the elevator. I looked at the health workers, desperate to save his life. Some looked at me with eyes of pity, while others threw their stone cold gaze at the almost lifeless body on the bed beside me. The elevator was a few steps away and I knew the doctors would turn me back soon. It was enough excuse to leave but I could not. My heart though burnt at nerves by flames of anger, guilt and hurt told me to stay. The elevator doors got closer. Tears began to well up at the sides of my eyelids. “It can’t end like this. It just can’t.” I repeated several times like a ritual chant until one of the doctors stopped and took my hands in his. It was the short brunette. His small and gentle eyes spoke kindness. “Wait! She should have a moment with him.” He told the other doctors and nurses. They stopped. I stared at them. Different characters covered by white coats and honoured by stethoscope. I had that honour. At least I would have but, I let it all go for the man whose life was in the hands of the professionals before me. I looked at the hospital walls and counted to three. Then my vision caught the sight of children playing a few steps away until my eyes met my shoes. I pinched my skin. Acrylic nails pierced through the black jean pants I wore. I did not have the courage to look at him. He was in this situation because of me. “Ma’am we’re sorry but his life literally depends on time. We can’t just stand around anymore. This isn’t goodbye. He’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” A pretty blonde with charming blue for eyes said while her right hand caressed my left shoulder. I stared at her hand. It had blood. His blood. My eyes slowly left my shoulder and settled on the unconscious man lain on white sheets stained red. There he was. The love of my life. Kim Tae Min. My Kim Tae Min. He lay like a lifeless doll, pretty as ever. His platinum blonde hair was in disarray as it kissed his thick eyebrows in a few bold strands. His thin lips charred but pink were cut. Blood peeked out of them, but they remained perfect. As perfect as he. I ran my fingers through his hair. They escaped every strand in a smooth motion, like silk would when touched. He was perfect. His face was stained by patches of red and purple. White skin smooth and spotless hosted deep scars and cuts. Some strands of platinum on his head were fed with the red of blood. His limbs were covered by a blanket but I could see the blood stained sheets from the sides of the covers. The flesh covered lids of his almond shaped eyes moved while closed. He was in pain and that I knew. I had to let him go but it was hard. What if this was goodbye? The words he'd said over a week ago replayed in my head. “This is our last dance my dear.” He had said. I remember the warmth of his right hand on mine while our fingers were locked. My head rested on his chest covered by a pink sweater he wore earlier that night. I remember the feel of his left hand on my waist. It went well around my slender figure and I could feel the fear I had escape me. He was my safety. I remember the look in his brown eyes that night. The dim beauty of the candlelight that surrounded us, made them shine gold. “Then make it the best dance, my love.” I had replied. I was stupid. I should have never said that, nor should he. What if it was our last dance? What if I never saw those beautiful brown eyes again? I broke into tears and dropped myself on him, hoping his arms would hold me again. They did not. His hands remained glued to the bed, his eyes remained closed. “Ma’am!” One of the doctors shouted and I stood. The elevator doors opened and the bed was rolled in. Kim was on it. My Kim. My ribs seemed too close to my heart this time. I gasped for air. There was none. I had to breathe. I needed to breathe. One of the doctors walked to me. He was about to say something but I ignored him and ran instead. My feet found their strength. They knew false hope was not what I needed. I just wanted to breathe. I got into another elevator and found myself at the top of the hospital building. With every whiff of oxygen my lungs could gather, I screamed at the top of my voice. Tae Min taught me that. We did it once before. I did scream but the weight on my heart remained. I dropped on the floor like a bag of rocks, too heavy to move or be moved. My eyes hurt as tears rushed out of them. The cold breeze did no justice to the salty waters of my eyes as it froze them by drops. My eyelids felt the pain of needles while I blinked and my heart ached. I got a pack of cigarettes out of the left pocket on my jacket and stared at it. It was Tae Min's. He always said it kept him calm. I promised to help him quit. Without a lighter, I took out one of the white sticks and placed it in my mouth. I wished I knew how to smoke. I would have felt what Tae Min felt when he did. I smiled and cold tears dropped out of my eyes even more. I placed the hoodie of my jacket over my black hair, while I pondered on the reason I was here. I drifted into moments from a year ago. The year it all started. The reason Tae Min was in surgery was me and it all started last year. The reason I had an unlit cigar in my mouth and pain in my heart was because of a cringe-worthy fan letter. A cringe-worthy fan letter, a talent agency and a bad decision. That's right. It was because I wrote a letter. A letter to Kim Tae Min.