To: Ju Ly
Ju Lyyyyy, it's Kyeonghwa. Are you busy these days? When I picture you hustling between the east and west coasts in a foreign land, I both worry about you and feel inspired to live with greater diligence. To tell you the truth, since spring arrived, it’s been hard for me to find the good in life. On my days off of work, I head out of my house to go to the cafe and turn back after just a few steps. This has become common even though the blooms are out in abundance. On the morning I met you and Jiyoung over Zoom, I felt both wonder and even relief as my feelings of unease transformed into excitement—from the banana peel I found laid out elegantly in the middle of the road, the savoriness of the scone given to me by my colleague J, the late night phone calls with my friend N drenched in pessimism and laughter, the night I spent brushing back someone's hair until they fell asleep. I felt a small but sure sparkle of light, like the fingernail of sun you witnessed inside the box. So perhaps I’ve been exaggerating my suffering this spring.
I once mentioned in passing that it’s been a while since I’ve been able to sleep properly. It started when I was around twenty, and thankfully, starting a few years ago, I've been doing well with sleeping pills. People say it’s better to sleep without any medication, but I'm content with the sleep I do get. But even in those early days of light sleep, I still had some nights when I slept deeply for a long time.
When you backpack, you grow accustomed to sharing one room with multiple people. It’s easier on your wallet, and you can get information about an unfamiliar place quickly. I lucked out by meeting good people in the hostels I stayed at. When morning arrives in the dormitory, the early birds have already left with their blankets folded neatly on their beds, the ones who stayed out late to party and drink snore loudly, and some people rustle their blankets while waking up. Do you know that sound? The rustling is more distinguished and disciplined than the rustling of blankets you make when you are still asleep. You get the feeling, Ah, that person's awake now. And when you face toward the rustling, you meet the gaze of a puffy face. Peels of laughter then a yawn. Kicking the blanket off, you stretch and ask each other, How did you sleep? That kid sleeping over there, how late did they even stay out? and share a laugh again.
While I had fun getting to know such a diverse group of people, I couldn't help but feel disconnected. My body remained sensitive, and I would try to find time to be alone, but would also get lonely. Around the time I had started telling apart the sounds of different sleepers, Heen arrived. The last syllable of their name was Heen. Heen with the bright chestnut-colored eyes. The kind you keep wanting to star into, and when you look into them... you find a refuge. Heen ended up taking the empty bunk above mine. I slept lightly still and woke up in the middle of the night. I found Heen sitting against a corner of a room. “Trouble sleeping? Why not try lying down?” I said. And Heen, “I need to sit to feel sleepy. You should go back to sleep.” Blink. Blink. Our eyes blinking, blinking in the dark. I soon fell asleep, and when I awoke it was almost noon. I stumbled out to the terrace with half-closed eyes. Heen was smoking a cig. “Did you sleep well?” Their face smiling as they spoke with the same gentle tone of “You should go back to sleep” from the previous night.
On another night, Heen sat in front of my bed while hugging both of their knees. Blinking, blinking wordlessly... as if they could disappear with a slight nudge, at that moment, there was nothing I could do but stare into their eyes. Blink, blink... something heavy sat across my chest, but I still fell asleep. Strangely. Sleep poured forth. And when I woke up on another night, I found Heen curled up next to my bed. I wanted to let Heen sleep comfortably, but I didn't have the courage to stretch out my hand. Heen would have then woken up while I slept. In the middle of the night with no helping hand, expression, or voice to guide, Heen’s brown eyes, leaning back, hovering between opening and closing. I want to call after Heen to come over here next to me. Because it’s now my turn to watch over them as they fall asleep. That's what I wanted to do.
Dear Ju Ly, it’s good to love, but it’s also so hard. For just anyone, you can get any kind of bungeoppang, but if you wanted to get bungeoppang for someone you love, you have to try out which stands offer the best and consider what fillings the person likes, think about whether they've just eaten or are heading out to eat. If you have to guess all of these things out of the blue, that's no way to be. And you just end up thinking to yourself bungeoppang bungeoppang over and over.
But I think I'm ready to love. I want to have the courage to hold and act on what someone I love likes and dislikes. And to ask. With my belated wish to call out to those brown eyes.
Wishing you sweet dreams in May, Ju Ly. I hope you wake up well-rested after a dreamless sleep.
To Ju Ly who I want to get to know slowly
Kyeonghwa.
P.S. I've attached a photo of the fallen banana peel on the street. I was truly stunned by its elegance!
