Conversations Amidst Autumn's Whispers
I found myself wandering along the Cheona Forest Path, immersed in the vibrant hues of autumn foliage. The leaves painted the landscape in a kaleidoscope of colors, and the air held a crispness that invigorated the senses. Cheon-Wangsa Temple, nestled beneath the majestic rock cliff, stood adorned with nature's breathtaking artwork. It was a place of serenity, a sanctuary for reflection.
At Hangpaduri Hangmong Historic Site, I sought solace on a weathered bench, observing as a solitary red leaf gracefully descended from a nearby tree. It seemed as if the falling leaf mirrored the sense of separation I felt from Min-su, but then I noticed the trees transforming once again, shifting their colors from fiery reds to vibrant greens.
"Will I see you again?" I mused, whispering the question to the wind.
Gazing at the sky through the filtering canopy of maple leaves, my thoughts wandered. It was then that a solitary maple leaf fluttered down and gently landed on my face, prompting another question from within, "Will my dreams come true?" I pressed the leaf against my palm, contemplating its fragile existence. Picking up my diary, I attempted to capture the thoughts swirling within me.
"My mind is a courtroom," I scribbled, pondering the unanswered questions that crowded my thoughts each day. "How many questions will remain unspoken, unresolved? If the mind were a maple tree, would it also sprout new leaves in the spring? Alas, there is no answer."
A sigh escaped me as I wiped away the tears that had welled up in my eyes. Lost in my musings, I was startled by a familiar voice calling out, "Is that you, Ayoung?" I turned to find Du Ho standing before me.
"Why is he here?" I wondered, feeling a mixture of surprise and unease.
"You're here," Du Ho said as he took a seat beside me, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. "M mm, no, I came for a few days," I replied, not quite ready to confront him. It felt as though I had become callous in his presence, shutting off the part of me that once cared deeply.
"Has Kimiko Halmeoni visited? I can't even recall the taste of her kimchi soup," Du Ho asked innocently, unknowingly stirring emotions within me. Tears welled in my eyes as I replied, "You'll never see Kimiko Halmeoni again. She has left this world."
"What?" Du Ho's eyes widened in surprise, his face reflecting shock and remorse. "I'm sorry, Ayoung. I had no idea."
"How could you know? I don't wish to engage with opportunistic people like you. If you don't leave, I will," I retorted, my voice laced with anger, as I prepared to make my exit.
"Ayoung, are you angry with me?" Du Ho called out, his voice filled with desperation.
"There was nothing between us to be angry about," I snapped, my words punctuated by a deep sense of hurt. I stormed away, intending to leave it all behind.
But Du Ho refused to let me go so easily. He reached out and grasped my hand, pleading for me to listen. I pulled my hand away, resisting his touch. "Just hear me out," he begged.
"We have nothing left to discuss, Du Ho," I declared, my voice tinged with weariness. Yet, Halmeoni's words echoed in my mind, reminding me that those burdened by guilt should be given a chance to confess.
"Speak, speak," I urged, wanting him to unburden himself.
"Meeting you changed a lot of things, Ayoung," Du Ho began, his tone full of concern. "When I came to Seoul and met my birth mother, she was told that nothing is worth as much as money... She didn't seem happy that I came," he revealed his inner turmoil. But there were no answers to quell the storm of questions that arose within me. My own questions remained unanswered, but I absorbed his words and listened.
"Initially, in Japan, I was content. But as time passed, everything changed. Due to my father's insistence, I abandoned my studies and started working for the company. I was compelled to marry Kyun-Mi for the sake of a business deal. I'm sorry; I never meant to deceive you…" His voice trailed off, his tears mirroring my own.
Moved by his vulnerability, I approached him and offered solace. "What's done is done. There's no use in dwelling on the past," I consoled him, understanding the weight of his regrets.
"I want us to be best friends again. Please, forgive me," he pleaded, pulling me into a heartfelt embrace. I felt his pain acutely, but I also knew that I lacked the power to fully mend it. My own troubles exceeded my capacity to heal. Yet, I allowed him back into my life, knowing that old friendships, though changed, held a certain familiarity.
Suddenly, a voice interrupted our shared moment. "Ayoung, come and eat tteokbokki!" I turned to see Min, beckoning us to join him. Without hesitation, we both rushed to savor the spicy delight.
In the past, during Jeju evenings, soju would not have been part of our equation. But now, it flowed freely, as if seeking to drown the sorrows that plagued us. Du Ho and I engaged in a contest of soju shots, each bottle consumed with a mixture of camaraderie and lingering pain.
"Ayoung, you've changed. You can hold your liquor now," Du Ho observed, his words tinged with both surprise and admiration.
"Yes, people change," I replied, a smile playing upon my lips.
"Does Min take good care of you?" Du Ho inquired, concern evident in his voice.
"Hmm…yes. But tell me, why did you come all the way to Jeju?" I deflected, not wanting to dwell on the complexities of our intertwined lives.
"Kyung-Mi had a photo shoot. I thought I'd stay here for a while," he explained.
"Well, that's good to know," I replied, attempting to mask the emotions churning within me.
As Du Ho headed home, I clutched two empty bottles of soju, taking slow steps in his wake. "Min-su is indeed fortunate to have you," Du Ho commented, his words seeping into the depths of my heart. I remained silent, acknowledging the truth his words held.
Tears began to fall, and Du Ho noticed. He gently asked, "Ayoung, why are you crying?" Rubbing my head, he attempted to offer comfort. I confided in him, revealing some of my troubles while keeping the darkest depths concealed. I couldn't bear to burden others with my pain. As he listened intently, Du Ho's eyes widened with astonishment.
My heart ached, overwhelmed with an anguish that defied containment. Though I longed to scream and divulge my deepest wounds, I found myself incapable of uttering the words. Laughter escaped me, hollow and tinged with sorrow. No one could fill the void left by Min-su and Halmeoni. It was an insurmountable task.
Soju became my companion, providing temporary respite for my sorrows. I had forgone my medication for two days, tossing aside the bottle as a symbolic act of rebellion. Tearfully, I watched the scattered remnants of my healing elixir. Exhausted, I succumbed to sleep once more, finding solace in the oblivion it offered.