#p:sohee

[jeonmlnyoung]

@minyoung: she be judging all the sinners

tagged in this photo: kang sohee

[rkxsunggyu-blog]

boys don’t cry;

@rksohee

You can’t be raised by conservative grandmother without a traditional mindset being drilled into your head. It doesn’t help that everywhere he looks -- every magazine, commercial, book, and movie -- reinforces what she’s told him all his life. Hell, he’ll be a boy forever unless his legs heal enough for him to enlist in the military. He can’t be a man until he’s firing a gun while coated in mud. He’ll be a man when he has muscles, when he has bravado, when he can intimidate anyone in the workplace.

When. When. When. When.

The list plays in an endless loop inside his head as he sips his coffee, enjoying something warm heating up a dry throat and hollow stomach. He hasn’t spent money on himself for awhile, so the guilt that accompanied a coffee and croissant was overwhelming. He looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and looking out the window with a zoned out expression. His thoughts were a million miles away.

What about his future? What kind of man would’ve ever let his mother help him get dressed, fresh out of the hospital or not? It doesn’t matter how many metal rods are in him. Good lord, he should’ve been able to change into sweatpants by himself if he was competent enough. He can’t imagine what kind of woman would want that if his condition doesn’t improve in a few years. The mere thought of dating brings another anxiety-inducing question to mind. What kind of man can’t support his family? All of his guy friends had their lives together, so why couldn’t he do it? There were no fabulous Facebook photos marking major milestones in his life, just medical bills that came in the mail.

That’s why he’d gone to the coffee shop in the first place: to spread out the different bank statements, hospital bills, the family store’s balance sheets, and government aid forms. Sunggyu thought spreading it all out would help him get organized. Instead, it made him overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed to the point where his eyes burn and there’s a swirling, hurricane sensation in the center of his abdomen. The adrenaline that comes with panic makes the back of his neck sweat as he takes another nervous sip of coffee. With a deep breath, he reminds himself that he can figure a way out of this mess. If he pushes himself a little harder, maybe he can do some extra subbing for teachers in departments outside of special ed.  His fingers flip through the documents and -- shit, that’s a paper cut in the center of his thumb.

He instinctively pops it into his mouth and yanks it back out just ask quick. The last thing he wants is to be sitting there with tears in his eyes, sucking on his thumb like a two year-old. That’s not what he’s doing, but that’s what people will see. At least he thinks so, if he isn’t too much inside his own head today.

The numbers are melting together before his eyes, becoming like hieroglyphics in menacing black ink. It’s all too much -- each thought pushes a weight on his shoulders, pushes his lungs to exhale stress with each breath. Sunggyu clumsily stuffs the documents into a manila folder, ignoring a teardrop that smudges the interest rate on his bill statement. His vision blurs and the chestnut brown of the coffee shop table blends with the croissant atop a brown napkin.

All his life, he’s been taught to swallow his feelings. It’s not something he’s constantly thinking about -- he hardly realizes that influence exists -- but it’s a nagging voice inside his head.

Put that down! Boys don’t play with dolls. Why do you want a pink shirt? That’s not for boys.   Man up, they’re just playing rough with you! Don’t mind them, boys will be boys. The military will toughen you up, make you a man. That’s right, a good husband or son provides for his family. You need to learn responsibility; one day your wife will depend on you. You want to be an elementary school teacher? Why not try engineering or science? Do you have a girlfriend yet? You’re not waiting for HER to make the first move, are you?

Most of all:

Boys don’t cry.

That’s right.

Boys toughen up, blink back their tears, and get angry. They’re not cowards -- never, ever, ever. Other emotions are out of the question unless you want to be nicknamed a wuss or a baby. He’s a complicated man with a colorful spectrum of emotions and experiences. But, they’re all hidden under a flushed face and furiously scrubbed away tears.  

He’s never thought about all the weight he’s under, all magnified by his injury and role as the sole son of a single mother. Even now, he’s not quite sure what’s making the tears slip down his face. But, every feeling he’s ever bottled up inside finally decided to rear its ugly head. 

He feels the adrenaline-induced pressure surging upwards, rushing like a geyser. Sunggyu’s expression crumples up, his voice chokes, his shoulders shake, and he’s vulnerable. There’s nowhere to hide in a busy cafe, but he’ll do his best. His forehead slams against the table and his face is buried into a croissant that never asked to be violently cried into.