In the Shadow of the Spring
In the shadow of spring, to you from the past. His tedious exile in Cheongna will last no more
than a year, no matter how long it stretches. Even if we carve away at time, until spring arrives
again next year, our end won’t change. So now, this is like the shadow of the spring where we’ll
part again. It was a shadow that spring left behind, at its back. Perhaps next year, I still won’t
be able to leave Cheongna, remaining in this shadow and watching you go. And so, my
shadowed land will remain winter even when that spring has fully passed.
A weekend, long ago. The hands we held under the partitioned desks. His note tucked inside a
workbook. Him handing me a cup of hot instant noodles. The scent of fabric softener from his
clean school uniform shirt. His face, laughing playfully as he stole sips of my canned coffee.
Ah, that laughing face. His face, usually scrunched up as if utterly bored, would instantly clear
and brighten like a boy’s when he saw me, and I loved that. The boy who would faintly wrinkle
his nose and smile with a refreshingly curved lips. The voice of that naive boy, who said we’d
always be together when we went to Seoul later.
At one time, I wanted to give my whole life to Park Wookyung, to escape into his life. I wanted
to be completely subjugated to him, if only to possess everything about him.
