Dear Johnny, Love Jenny.

If you look up and saw my feet hanging from the barricades of the 15th floor rooftop, you'll probably think I was trying to end my life. I am not, suicidal. Just, dramatic. It was my father's one year death anniversary and I refused to go home, at least that is what my relatives thought. I live in a different country with a mediocre job as a translator and subtitle encoder for a Korean company in Chicago. They thought I was moving to San Francisco, where all are relatives are, but I don't like the heat even on winter time and Chicago was the best option. I have been avoiding my mom's phone calls because I know she will bring up the matter. I have also been deliberately avoiding my aunt's calls because I know she will indirectly tell me how ungrateful I was to a point where I would refuse to go home, even though I have the means to, to pay respect to my late father. That was not the issue. I took a deep breath and closed by eyes. Chicago and its winds. It felt like home, peaceful, quite, safe... "Hey! Don't do it!" Someone grabbed me by the arm and caught my back before I could even land on the concrete. I didn't notice I was leaning towards down already and was on the verge of falling on my face, from the 15th floor of this building. "Thanks... but I don't really..." I could barely see his face but he is about 6 feet tall. It was foggy at this hour. "I am not sure if I am in a position to tell you this, I don't know what you are going.." "No really I'm not.." I cut him off before he could go deep with the conversation. "I just love hanging out in here, it's my usual spot, and that barricade.." I pointed out to the steel stacked on top of one another, some part crooked with rust in them. Oh. It is kind of dangerous. "You know what, never mind." I told him while patting the dust I acquired from sitting for too long on my not so safe spot. "Johnny." he reached out his hand to introduce himself and that's when I caught his eye. Hazel brown. Dark brown with no sunlight, but hazel brown was the color of his eyes. He sure is 6 feet tall or even higher, just the right build, jet black hair with his messy bangs swiped to each corners of his forehead in pure perfection. Then he smiled. That smile can melt a whole crowd of girls for all I know. He was smiling with his eyes and you can clearly see the wrinkles those sweet smiles created at the side of his hazel brown gaze. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as he waved his extra cup of coffee in my face, trying to bring me back down to earth. Then I saw my fingers intertwined, the extra skin showing from too much peeling. Was I nervous? "Jenny." He looked confuse "is my name..." He laughed and found a corner where he can take a seat "Coffee?" "I am sorry, coffee makes me palpitate." I refused politely unknowingly giving him such irrelevant information when I can always just say no. "A life with no coffee? That's sad." He stared at the billboard stand planted on the very same rooftop we are in. "I've got tea." I didn't even know where that came from and how is it important? "Fair enough, but tea makes you relax, coffee keeps you going." He said sipping his, of course, coffee. "I'm not very sure where this conversation is going." I clapped my hands on my tattered jeans and decided to sit beside him. "Me too." Everything turned awkward cause I didn't dare say another word to him, I bit mu tongue and I can see him biting his lower lip. All we could hear were crickets. Crickets on a foggy afternoon. "Were you really not planning on jumping.. ending.." The ice rattled from his cup, a sign that he was moving. "No, really, please, I swear, I am not.." I sounded defensive the more I heard my voice echo in my head. Sure, I was clinically diagnosed with anxiety, but that was not enough reason to be suicidal. At least, personally, that is what I thought. "Then why are you here if not for that?" He asked, I could hear the ice cubes from his cup again. "Personal issues, you wouldn't.." I glanced at him and quickly looked away. "I'm a stranger." He said in a convincing slightly playful tone. "And I know what you're trying to do." I thought moments like this would only exist in movies but strangers really are the best ones to tell whatever you are feeling because at the end of the conversation, when it is time for you to part ways, you won't be able to to see them again and your stories to them are just another random talk that will soon slip their mind. "It's my dad.." I finally gave in. "What is?" His voice was near so I decided to look on my side. My heart skipped a bit when I saw how close he was and his cup of coffee is literally the only thing keeping us a part. "When he uh.. died.. I didn't really mourn or had the time to grieve, I was the oldest out of four and I needed to look strong and we weren't really that close." "But he is still your dad." He answered smiling softly in attempt to make me feel comfortable. "Yeah he is, and I know that, I am aware I cannot change that, it's just that, even though he was it, unfortunately, that title, didn't work for us." "Did you regret any of it?" You could see how careful he was with his next question because he had to pause for a few minutes before opening his mouth again. "Some part yes, but what will I do with regret?" My sentence seemed to have affected him that it left him silent and in thoughts. "You know, I don't really like where I am right now in life." He lowered his head looking at the second cup of coffee he has on his hands, the ice almost melted into water mixed with the unfinished coffee. The ends of his grey hoodie wet from the droplets of water outside the cup. "I wish I should've stayed here in Chicago, my hometown. Had a normal life, got a girlfriend, married, kids, bought a house, complain about my nine to five job.." I was left confused "You don't have a normal life?" "Yeah like most adults our age?" His sentence fade as he try to assess whether we are on the same age range or not. "1996." I smiled. "Okay cool, 1995." He answered. "So uhm your dad?" He brought back the original topic of the conversation. "Basically I didn't want to bother going home but my family insist I do, I just can't. I'll just have to pay my respects from here." I explained trying to close this talk we are having as soon as I noticed it is getting dark or it's just the fog. "It's your decision, if you believe your relationship with him is that.. and you would rather do it your own way then I say go for it.." I just looked at him and smiled. "So you got any plans?" He started collecting the empty cup of coffees he brought with him and gathered them on his left hand, while the other supporting him leaning on his back staring at the dark sky. "I wanted to be a musical actress, but to star in movies, that's a bonus." I laughed hearing myself share my dreams that I try to keep a low profile on, to a stranger. "Really? It's hard out there you know." "I know that but it's my passion, I know it is what I am good at and I just know I'll thrive." "Well good luck with that." Another silence, there was something about his tone that I may have offended or maybe even insulted him. I scanned to find any evidence of offense in his body language but nothing. "Maybe, earlier, unconsciously I was really trying to end things, but I just don't want to admit it to myself..." I decided to revert to the initial topic. "You know, even if I give you an advise, it won't be enough to fix whatever you have inside of you. But you have to know, every one of us is a little messy, in the head." I blurted a laugh and looked at him with sorry written all over my face "The timing was not great I know, I am so sorry." "It's true though. But even though that is the case, it's never a reason to put an end to it. Life is and can be beautiful..." "If you know how to live it." We said in perfect unison and smiled at each other. "I have to go, it's getting late, I have to get up at 7AM to work at my boring 9 to 5 job." I emphasized the 9 to 5 so he knows it is a joke to what he have said earlier. "Okay then. Nice meeting you." He said putting his arm out again for a handshake, this time, no distractions from the fog or his beautiful eyes or shock from the thought of possibly landing from the 15th floor to the cars speeding on the highway. Just two strangers sharing their feelings to one another. "Likewise."