the record of some feelings i used to have
i was soaking in a bathtub (chrome just asked me to change it into "bloodbath", well, chrome knows me well) and thinking my thoughts and i thought hey, remember that time when hanchul almost ruled your life. and the thing is i don't. i remember pieces and while i remember them, i think it's time to write them down, to let them go a bit and to let them stay and to let them be acknowledged for what they were.
it all started with that fic where heechul was a selective insomniac and it was (set? written?) before hangeng left the group and i really don't remember much except for the fact that heechul couldn't sleep and he tried things and people and it all sounds like a bad fic, but it wasn't. i din't even go for it because i wanted hanchul, i couldn't care less at that time. but i connected so hard, and i don't want to write things i don't remember clearly so that is it. it was a great fic, and i miss it dearly. and i don't think i'll ever be able to explain why and whats about me and heechul/hanchul/hangeng with out going embarrassingly deep into what and why i felt during my teen-angst-age
and even if it was a joke about missing nicky, it still might be true (not really about nicky, not only about nicky, but there are people i am losing to other countries and cities and other people and circumstances and simply loosing to nothing because i wasn't good enough or proactive enough or clear enough about how important they were)
and there was that comment to some fic where everything was a bit angsty but okay in the end written way before everything went to hell and hangeng went to china with i think the only person who can break heechul's heart is hangeng and it broke my heart, too.
i don't feel it that strong any more,
i remember, often, time unfold the petals for our eyes to see (and i'll keep this mix cd forever) and i feel the urge to smile, because it used to make me feel so many things at a time.
it still does, they still do, but it's muted a bit, and i can live with that.
some kindly kept memories of some beloved people who were hurt one way or another and who had to choose their happiness in one way or another and who moved on in one way or another
and whose real story will be forever unknown to me, and it's okay.