He told me, some days are not meant for enjoying new breath.
I told him, you’ve given up already.
Then he said, another day lost? why not have another drink?
I said, now you’re giving up completely, even that mustard seed of hope.
We sat down on the bench, looking out onto Han River. We said nothing as we remembered our first view of Seoul and the promise it held for us. The promise that in this new land our new selves could be, yet here he was dragging us back across the Pacific to that home of the bravely defeated.
I can’t change, he said.
Then I will, I said.
I kissed his thin lips and biked down the path ready to start my new life, the life for which I had come, never once looking back over my shoulder on the life that was abandoned.