MAYBE, THIS IS LOVE,

There were nights where Yeonjun couldn't move.

As he lay in bed in the middle of the night with eyes wide open, he tried to scream, to move. But no words would come out of his mouth no matter how hard he tried. His body would stop functioning and would shut down, leaving him paralyzed and in pain, tears filling  his eyes. His nightmares were vivid, filled with memories he wished he could erase forever and words he wished he'd never heard. On those nights, Yeonjun wished his mother was with him. He wished that she was there to comfort him and take his pain away, just like she'd done years before.

She wasn't there, and he was left in pain.

Stop, he begged, opening his mouth to scream but nothing came out. Please, stop.

Hours had passed before he could move again, and the first thing he did was cry. He hated how vulnerable he could be at times like these, after all he'd done to build the wall guarding his heart and mind. But being vulnerable was something normal to him now. It seemed that ever since May appeared in his life, his emotions had been seeping through the cracks, one by one, and he hated the idea of being able to feel again. Yeonjun sat up in his bed and held his head in his hands, sobbing quietly as the pain in his body slowly started to fade. His shoulders were shaking and he wished that someone were there to hold him. But no matter how much he wished, no one would be there.

He was lonely, sitting there with tears streaming down his face — he pitied himself. Yeonjun wiped the tears from his eyes and face, forcing himself to stop crying and smile. "I'm okay," he said quietly. "I'm okay."

He was anything but okay.

When morning had finally come, Yeonjun locked himself in the bathroom and sat in the tub. He buried his face in his knees and silently cried. He knew it wouldn't matter if he had cried aloud — there was no one to listen to him anyway — but there was something about the solitude that called to him, made him feel safe.

Yeonjun was tired. He was tired of living, of being hurt, of remembering, of feeling. The more tired he became, the more he hurt. And the more he hurt, the more he hated — both everything and himself.

• • •

He would meet May today. Yeonjun had told her to come to the bridge, saying it was an emergency, though it wasn't. The truth was, all he wanted was to see her again because in the small amount of time they had spent together, Yeonjun could no longer ignore his feelings for her. May made him feel cared for. She made him want to live a little longer, even if it were just for a day.

He held onto the railing, staring down at the water below the bridge. He could see his reflection staring back at him with sad, tired eyes, and he could see past it as well. It was as if he were there, but invisible. It bothered him.

"You called?" Yeonjun turned around to find a smiling May, her hands in her pockets. She looked happier since the last time they'd met, but he could still see traces of sadness in her eyes.

"I did," Yeonjun said. He let go of the railing he had been holding onto so tightly and slowly walked toward the girl.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he said. "I just wanted to see you again."

May snorted, "I'm flattered," she said, "but was that really an emergency?"

"It was for me," he said. "Funny, right?"

"No," she shook her head. "I wanted to see you, too."

May knew her feelings well. It didn't matter that only a few weeks ago, Yeonjun had been a stranger that had tried to kill himself — she didn't care that she was only trying to save him. He meant more to her than anyone who'd been in her life. Yeonjun meant the world to her.

He cleared his throat and sighed, "Did you mean it?" Yeonjun asked. "What you said back there in the forest? Did you mean it when you said you'd stay with me?"

May's eyes turned glossy, as if she were to cry at any second thinking about it. "Every word," she said. "I meant everything I said."

"Then can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

He took in a deep breath, "Why is it that everytime you're around me," he started, "I feel as if I can finally be me? And when you're not near me, why do I want to see you?"

It wasn't a surprise to her, but his words made her heart pound knowing she wasn't the only one who felt that way. May cracked a smile. "I was thinking the same thing," she said.

"Do you know what it is?" he asked, a hint of fear detected in his voice. Yeonjun didn't understand why he felt so scared suddenly. His emotions were betraying him — he wasn't supposed to feel these kinds of things. He wasn't used to it. He was feeling again, and it was scaring him.

"Maybe," she said, "this is love."

"Then why do I feel so scared?" He stared at her with tears filling his eyes, "If this is love, why am I so afraid?"

"Because it's unpredictable. You don't know whether it'll hurt you or heal you." She moved closer to him. "It's okay if you're scared," she said quietly. "I'm scared, too." She paused, her hands gripping the ends of her shirt. Then she looked at him, stretching her arms out wide. "Want a hug?"

Yeonjun hesitated, not knowing how he was supposed to respond. She'd hugged him before, but this was different. This time, a hug meant he'd come to terms with feeling and being vulnerable around others, not just himself. A hug from May meant he accepted this feeling she'd labeled "love." He didn't know if he was ready for such a feeling, but he nodded. He felt her arms wrap around him, her warmth instantly embracing him. Tears formed again, an expected response on her part, as he returned the hug, his hold much more faint than hers — still, a hug nonetheless.

With May, Yeonjun felt human. He felt the fear he thought had permanently settled into his body dissipate as she held him. And though he'd never done it quite right, that day, Yeonjun loved.