i chose you

Chanwoo

It's like floating in an endless sea, flying over the clouds, and free falling off a cliff all at once.

It's like hearing and feeling everything but knowing nothing at the same time.

I notice things now that I never did before. With my sight covered by a constant white haze, touch and sound was all I had to rely on.

There were times when I faded in and out, like a vintage stereo that couldn't get tuned just right.

In a way, it was refreshing. At first I didn't know if I was dead or alive, but when I heard the fuzzy bustle of medical staff around me day after day, and heard murmured voices of those I loved, I knew I wasn't completely gone. At least, not yet.

Then, I started to be able to pick up sounds more clearly. Everything was more sharp, more vivid. It was like somebody pulled out the cotton that had been in my ears, allowing me to hear everything in its raw, untainted form.

The faint, cloudy murmurs formed into full sentences, making sense and containing meaning. In a sick, twisted way that felt selfish, it made things worse. I heard every word the doctors said, and I heard the responses of my family and friends. I had to hear their cries and distressed voices ghost around me until it all faded back out and I was gone again. I had to hear the reminder that, once again, there was no news. I had to listen as they tried to force hope down my loved ones' throats, when it was obvious that even they were losing patience in the matter.

However, it always came back, and it was getting more frequent. Before, I'd only been able to pick up on a few things on and off until I was sucked back under the inevitable sleep my body was trapped in. Now, I could stay for longer, and I was able to remember bits and pieces of things I'd previously heard.

It was like my brain was trying to wake me up, piece me together like a puzzle. It started with my ears, and traveled to my fingers, letting me feel again.

Despite the hope I so desperately was clutching onto, I was filled to the brim with worry. What if there's a missing piece to this puzzle? What if I can't get out back together just right? What if I'm never the same again?

It feels like, although my body is working to awaken, my fate is in my own unmoving hands. It feels like if I give up, so will my mind. My brain will turn off and go numb, and my heart will cease its beating.

I can't let that happen. I have far too much to live for.

I can hear them around me right now. I hear my mother humming absently as she stroked my head, and I hear my fathers foot tapping insistently on the surely cold, shiny floor beneath us. He always did that when he was anxious.

I also heard the gentle, steady breathing of Hyun-Ki to my left. It was subtle, and barely there if you didn't focus on it. Him just being there helped settle the anxiety nestled deep in my gut. If I take up-when I wake up, I'll thank him every day for staying by my side; for never giving up on me when it was clear that everyone else was beginning to.

They would never admit it, but I could tell that my parents were no longer in denial. They'd been pushed into icy water, a cinderblock chained to their ankles, drowning into reality with no way back up to the surface of false hope and fake comfort. They faced the cold truth.

Their responses had become less frantic, and more knowing. My mother no longer sobbed as she saw me unmoving day after day, visit after visit. My father no longer tried to talk to me after she left the room, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I could hear him.

My brother stopped coming altogether. They said if something changed, they'd let him know. I can't blame him. What's the use of waiting around for something that might not even happen?

The door opened with a creak, and a series of confident footsteps that I learned were Dr. Kim's echoed through the room. I'd heard him greet my parents and Hyun-ki before settling somewhere to my right. I guess I seemed to have good timing when it came to 'waking up'.

"So," he started, clearing his throat and rustling through papers that I could only assume were my files, "we should discuss any further steps that may be needed to take, Mrs. and Mr. Lee." I heard my mother make a sound of understanding, urging him to continue, "I see that you've gotten a hold of your lawyer, and it has been noted that Chanwoo has chosen a Health Care Proxy and filled out the forms a couple of years ago." I heard mumbles of understanding again before he paused.

An eery silence enveloped the room, and I wished nothing more than to open my eyes and scream to stop; to stop talking about this because I can hear and I'll wake up, I just need time. I wanted to scream to be more patient, to not lose hope on me just yet.

I couldn't. Instead, I had to lay there and listen as he continued.

"His chosen Health Care Proxy is Yoo Hyun-Ki, is that correct?" he questioned. I heard a low gasp from my left and the chair squared as it was pushed backwards.

"W-what?" Hyun-ki's voice rang out weak and frail in the empty coldness of the room. I hadn't told him. I didn't know anything like this would happen. I hoped it would never come to this, "what are you talking about? He never said anything to me- are you sure?" I heard him collapse back into the chair, weak and voice shaking.

Please, don't be mad at me.

"Mr. Yoo," Dr. Kim stated, keeping his voice low and steady, "by law, you are the one Mr. Lee has chosen to make any further decisions regarding his health now that he cannot speak and voice his wishes himself. As you all know, a coma usually only lasts for up to a few weeks, during which time the individual may start to gradually wake up and gain consciousness. We've been taking numerous scans, but neurological activity hasn't changed much in the last couple of weeks.." his voice wavered off, giving them time to take in information.

I heard him step away from my side and move toward the opposite side of the room to where my parents were stood before he continued, "He May very well progress into a different state of unconsciousness, which is a vegetative or minimally conscious state. It's up to you to decide when and if you'd like to let go." Hyun-Ki was silent. He said nothing, the only sound being his shaky breath and frequent tapping of his foot against the floor. I could tell his mind was reeling.

"Hyun-Ki," my mother started, I could hear her stepping closer to him as she spoke, "this is what he wanted. It's not up to us anymore. We know you'll do the right thing. We trust you." I heard a shaky sob, and at first, I wasn't sure who it was from. It wasn't my father, and it was too low to be my mother's.

Don't cry, Hyun-Ki. Don't cry for me, please. I chose you for a reason.

"I-I don't understand," his voice quivered, and I could imagine the tremble of his lips as his eyes welled with fresh, salty tears, "Why me? Why not one of you?" Nobody responded. Perhaps, they didn't know what to say. After all, it wasn't anyone else's decision.

Truth is, I didn't choose my parents because I could never put that pressure on them. If my life was ever in their hands, it would kill them to let go. My brother had his own family now, and I couldn't let him face that stress on his own. It had to be Hyun-Ki, it had to. He knows me better than anyone, he knows me better than I knew myself, I think.

He's always been there for me, since junior high. Ever since I'd got into a fight with Min Hoseok after school and he'd helped drag my bruised form to the nurse's office, he always seemed to know what I needed. The small boy was a stranger at the time. He didn't have to help me at all, but his heart was triple the size of his entire being. He was too good for this cruel world.

He'll know when it's time to let go, when it's okay to give up on me for good. He knows everything, and he knows what's best for me, too. He wouldn't keep me alive if he knew I was hurting. He wouldn't let me live in a permanent state of misery.

What I know most is that he won't give up on me so soon. Not yet.

I felt my chest rise and fall steadily, the machine I was hooked up to aiding that process. I wished desperately that someone would notice something- that maybe if I tried hard enough I could move a finger or grunt or do anything to get someone's attention.

It didn't work. No matter how hard I try to move or scream or do anything but think, it doesn't work. I'd heard Dr. Kim leave after bidding a respectful and professional goodbye. I heard my parents gather their things, and felt as my mother planted a kiss against my cool forehead. My father patted my shoulder and let his hand linger there for a moment before peeling it away and walking away. For some reason, it hurt. It felt like he was letting go of mr more and more every time he would come.

I heard my mother console Hyun-Ki from next to me, trying to soothe him. He'd fallen silent. For a reason I don't quite know, it was almost worse hearing him make no noise at all, like he was too numb to cry any longer.

Like it was too much for him, all because of me.

I'm sorry.

"Are you leaving soon?" I heard her ask him, his quiet sniffles dying down to almost none, "you should try to get some sleep."

"No," he started, attempting to clear the emotional choking his tired, hoarse throat, "I'm gonna stay for a while." I heard his chair squeal against the floor as it was scooter closer to my bed, and I felt a two hands clasp around my own, squeezing gently. I'm not going to stop trying. I won't stop trying until he gives up on me.

Long after her footsteps echoes out of the room, he stayed. He sat there next to me and combed back the hair on my forehead, fingers gentle and dainty, as if he was scared that I would crack at any moment. He cares so much. He always had.

Why do you care so much?

All I could hear was his gentle breathing. I wish he would talk. I wish he would say anything. My head started to get foggy, and I started to fade slowly at first, and then all at once as his fingers found their way into my hair, curling into my locks softly, the way that always helped my fall asleep.

As I faded once again, I couldn't help but plead once more, in hopes that maybe he would hear a drowsy ghost of a voice floating through the air. Give me some more time, I can do this.

Don't give up on me, Ki.