warnings: suicide and depression. please refrain from reading if you’re in a fragile state of mind.
Dear Yoongi,
I’ve tried to figure out why you broke up with me for the past few months. I honestly thought at the beginning that this might have been my fault. It was me, after all, that couldn’t have kids. It was me that was different. Even though you made sure that I believe in myself; that I love myself and that I speak for myself, I lost those things when you broke my heart, Yoongi. Did you lose them too?
It isn’t your fault that I am doing this, please do not take it that way. But our break up helped me to realise one thing, I don’t want to live. I never wanted to live. I did live, yes. But why? Did I do it because I had some goals? Or did I do it because society wanted me to? I can only imagine what people are saying now. “She must have been weak, that’s why she killed herself”. Is that what they’re saying?
Or are they understanding of my pain? Of the pain of having this empty void inside my heart? I could feel something, some emotions, only when we were together. I learned what a joy and what a colourful world we have, when we feel things. So now I lost this ability to feel, I am lost. I want to enjoy things, I want to smile at the kids running through water fountains when it’s hot outside. I want to smile whenever I smell my favourite white roses. I can’t. Why?
I’m sorry to the boys, please, take care of them. I’m sorry that I’ve pretended to be better, I just didn’t want them to worry. I know that they wouldn’t be able to forgive you this unless I move on. Please, don’t tell them what really happened. Please, do keep this a secret, and have your family by you. Will you do that?
I’ve organized everything for when you come back, there will be nothing left in the flat, I’ve put some important things in our deposit box, you can give them to the boys, say that I went back to my birth country and that those are the only things that I left behind me. For you, I’ve left you something precious. I don’t know if you’ll want it, but I hope that my thoughts aren’t real and that you still love me. Do you?
I feel sleepy now, so I’m going to finish it quickly. I love you, I thank you for the amazing 2 years, thank you for showing me how life should look like. Thank you for waking up the spark within me, thank you for the dreams I started to have when I met you. Thank you for introducing me to your bulletproof family. Thank you for your...
It was too late to apologise. Mistakes had been made, words had been said. All the hurt that wasn't meant to be given, was not only given but received. A person that should give only love, a smile, warmth to the heart, gave nothing but the feeling of a broken heart.
This endless misery of despair and sorrow should give you pain only, but when your heart is shattered by your soulmate it shows the happy memories; it takes you back to the happiest moments of your relationship, when you both shared your most honest smiles. It tells you the story of how you should be grateful for the love you received. It doesn't tell you to hate, to hide in your feelingless shell. No, it shows you the best moments so you could learn what you've lost.
It shows you how you’ve met, the shy smile that you shared when you both ordered large iced americano at local Starbucks. How he surprised you and came to your table asking, how such a pretty girl orders such dark coffee, to which you replied with the same question. How does such pretty boy order such dark coffee, but, in reality, you wondered how does such a handsome man talk to you? It shows you your first kiss, how his lips touched yours, afraid of you running away from him. Your lips returning his kiss, your tongue slowly opening his upper lip, afraid of going too fast in your relationship.
“You don’t have to force yourself to do something you don’t want to do, darling” was the very first sentence that convinced your heart that this man is worth your trust.
“I need to break up with you,” he said. As if your world didn't break apart the moment words left his lips. He left. He moved on with his life. He decided for both of you, that this is the time. This is the end.
And so, with those words, you thought of the end, of how to end this excruciating pain. Yet, you couldn't force yourself to reach for that blade, for those pills, for the liquid poison that you liked to savour in small amounts.
You were sitting with this emptiness in your heart, in your thoughts, when you heard a knock, a doorbell being rung. You knew you were supposed to leave the warmth of the bubbly water; it is something that is expected of people, after all. To open the door. But at that moment, you honestly couldn’t care less. You lost your light; you lost your will to fight, to live.
So, you sat in that lukewarm water, becoming colder with every passing minute. You wondered if maybe your recent talk had caused it. You knew that this secret of yours would destroy any relationship, yet you decided to reveal it. After all, it was honesty that was the foundation of every good relationship. You wondered if maybe that statement wasn't true; if maybe some secrets should never be revealed.
“I can't have kids. I can't get pregnant.”
When the water became ice-cold you reached the conclusion that devastated you forever. You were the cause of why your world fell apart. Even though he claimed there was nothing that could break his love for you, this must have been the limit of his love. The limit that he’d never met before the obstacle that couldn't be overcome. The Berlin Wall. The Dutch Water Line. The Mount Everest of his love.
His love for you withered away like a flower without light. His dream of being a father was something that always kept him motivated; his dream of telling stories - of making his dreams come true - was something that kept his body going. But when this possibility was taken away from him, he gave up on you. He gave up on your future, he gave up on your heart.
Your ears picked up a slight creaking noise when the heavy entry door was being pushed open and before you took notice of this fact, you heard your name being called throughout the house.
“Y/N!” it wasn’t the voice you longed for; it wasn’t the voice that could glue your heart back together. When your name is being summoned, you’re supposed to answer this call, but the only thing you did was stare at the view in front of your bathtub.
You loved the fact that you lived high up in the building and had a window stretching through the whole length of the wall in your bathroom; it allowed you to appreciate the crystal-clear night sky. The sky seemed to share your pain; stars being covered with the clouds, fighting for their light to shine through the vale of darkness. But when it seemed that the stars might have had a chance to win, the clouds covered their source of motivation; their moon was taken over by the same darkness that covered your heart, the moment you heard those devastating words.
“I don’t love you anymore. It’ll be better for both of us if we end it now.”
He was the one that thought of it. He was the one that decided for both of you. You, on the other hand, weren’t better off without him. You still loved him; he was your light, and you thought it worked both ways. That you were also his light.
“For fuck's sake, Y/N! You answer when someone calls you! Are you okay?” Your brain told you to answer, but your body refused. What’s the need for speech? You have no reason to live. What’s the need to announce that you’re still breathing? What’s the possible reason behind admitting that you’re still alive and in pain?
You felt your hand being taken into another; you saw worried eyes in front of yours. Yet, you didn’t react. You just looked at the face of your dear friend - another reminder of your broken heart. He was not only your best friend, but also you his. You should have felt some kind of emotion, probably negative, but you felt nothing. You went numb. You didn’t want to cry, smile, hug. You wanted nothing. You wanted to disappear from this world and join the stars in their fight. At least they wouldn’t suffer the way you were.
“Y/N.” This time it was a whisper. A warm whisper, an inviting whisper; the kind that brings peace even to the most violent fight. “Why are you in your clothes?”
He hadn’t even noticed the bloody blade next to you, same with the half-empty bottle of vodka. The blade was so close to you, yet so far away. You saw the blood on its ridges and wondered who had a chance to get to it before you. You were the one that wanted to suffer no more. The only thing that you needed to do was to just stretch your hand. But even this simple move was too much for you. Your friend must have noticed that there was no point in trying to cooperate with you.
“Get up, change into new clothes. I’ll take you to bed.”
Instructions were something you could follow, as it turned out a few minutes later when you were being put to bed by your dearest friend, Namjoon. He asked if you wanted him to lie with you, and you must have nodded your head, as he soon held you into his body. You knew it was healthy to cry your sadness out, but it must have been out of your limits, as you closed your eyes and went straight into deep night sleep.
You wandered through the land of Morpheus, dreaming of the future that was now lost, of the happy moments with your three kids. Your dogs chasing after them in the garden through the sprinklers. Then you, sat on the porch with your husband right next to you, your fingers entangled with his, smiles and pride evident on both of your faces. Your heart filled with joy, happiness, love, pure bliss.
Soon enough, though, you had to leave the land you started to love so much, to go back to the cruel reality. In your bed, there was no one. Namjoon must have gone to work; at least that’s what you thought and slightly hoped for. You reached for your phone that was placed yesterday on the nightstand next to your bed. Your stomach reminded you of the desire to eat, so you decided to order something from the place near your house. Jajangmyeon and japchae. Your favourite dishes.
Ten minutes later your food had arrived, so you left your bed in order to get breakfast. That’s when you noticed that Namjoon didn’t leave your apartment. No, in fact, he went even further. He brought the rest of your group. You thought it was your delivery ringing the doorbell, but it was your friends.
“Y/N!” Jimin ran to you and enveloped you in an honest hug. You didn’t return it, you only looked at the hands of Jin that had them full of dishes he must have cooked for you. So, you left Jimin, grabbed the dishes you needed, went to the kitchen for some chopsticks and sat by the table to eat.
“Hey, baby girl, you alright?” this was all you needed to snap. The two words that were reserved for your lover, the cause of your self-hatred, was all you needed to snap. To start screaming, to start the uncontrollable stream of tears going out of eyes.
All of it was such a blur, that until this day you don’t know what you screamed. The only thing you remember from snapping was what happened after it. All 6 of the boys cuddled you, not letting go until your legs gave out. Until your heart brought the sadness it should bring from the beginning. Until your tears dried out, and until your devastating emotions came back alive.
“It’s all my fault.”
“Darling, it isn’t your fault, trust me. It’s even beyond him, he had to do it.” You heard Jin’s voice clearly, so clearly that you felt as if his words were a loud church bell sounding on the Sunday’s morning mass. His words lingered in your thoughts and when you thought that this is the end; that they were gone; that you could let it go, move on, they came back. The thoughts of you being the fault for your unhappiness, the thoughts of him being forced to break up with you because of your circumstances. Because you were different. Because you weren’t normal as every single person around him. They always sneaked their way back to your mind.
You saw your friends almost every day after the breakup. They always made sure for someone to drop by your place in the evening and check on you. Sometimes they’d stay for the night, hugging your body tightly to their chests, talking to you total nonsense to stop you from crying. To distract you.
That’s how you came up with your plan. You decided to make the boys feel good, make them happier, remove this constant worry from their lives. You didn’t want to add to their stresses and worries; you knew what kind of restraint their careers put on them, and you didn’t want to add another problem to the already big pile. You watched them becoming more relaxed around you; you watched them giving you their biggest smiles, whenever they saw a delicate smile on your lips. You watched them going to their own beds at night.
Finally, after a few weeks of this tiring affectation from you, you got the big news. This was actually the first time you felt happy in months. Yes, you pretended to be happy, and you felt relieved when you saw your boys smiling, but what you felt at that moment was pure happiness. You jumped around your room, singing to happy songs, dancing around with wine in your hand and snacks on the table. They were going on tour, finally.
There was still a lot of time before they went, but you’d found endless sources for being happy in front of them, now that you knew they were going away. This only made them feel even better. They were worried for you for the past few months, ever since Yoongi broke up with you. They all tried to convince Yoongi to ask for you back, they all believed that you two together, was what made you both truly happy. That you both were destined to be together. They didn’t understand why he broke up with you. He never told them the true reason behind, always dismissed them with:
“It’s better for both of us.”
Finally, the day came. You’ve met with them the day before, drank some alcohol, wished them luck on their tour and wished them to have many amazing memories to tell you when they’ll come back. And you hugged them. Jimin asked you constantly whether everything is alright, but the only thing you said to him, every single time, was:
“Yes, Jimin. I’m finally happy.”
So you’d prepared everything the same night. The moment they left the country, you’d started to realise your plan. You went to your favourite restaurant, your favourite park, played with dogs at the shelter. You bought your favourite brand of vodka, you took out your pills and ran a warm bath at night, to watch the stars for the last time.
