we're bittersweet, are we?

screamed at each other. left unwanted, hurtful words to each other by accident. lines somewhere between if only i could go back, i wouldn't have married you! and the i shouldn't have met you, the i'm tired, it's your turn. things thrown in the other direction than to each other. blames fired. that's your job slapped on each other.

that's marriage.

or maybe it's just different for the two of them. they married young, after all. we did it too early, you know. not like he regretted it because it blessed them their twins, their girl and boy. but he guessed that his only regret is you. and it hurts more when he knows that he will still always love you, and care, and understand because it's you. still you even now he's back in 2001.

eyes sore red at the corners, he tries to look around, focus on something, hold his breath, anything. head turning here and there, trying to stay very still and not bounce his knee. hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel, trying not to cry. scratch his jean-clad thighs as if it's a cat to pamper. run his hand on his face then comb back his hair. and as he breathe, let out something, a sigh or an exhale escaping his lips, the dam just broke.

he heaves, crying there in the driver's seat of the parked minivan. because why can't he? he had got everything back. he's back but lost you in this time, this world where we're never together, never know him in a way we once do. all but two strangers of serim high. and the worse thing is, their kids don't exist because of it.

"why did i wish it.. why did i wish it.." he mumbled through his quiet cries leaving him all drained and weak.