17th August, 2023...
I can't remember when staring at the window became a habit. Was it when I landed on this bed or was it when I found out that no matter how much I tried I won't ever get better?
" Wow! the seasons go by fast, don't they Honey? " My husband's voice breaks the silence of the room, but it's not the cheerful tone it once was. His eyes, once full of life and laughter, now carry the weight of sadness and uncertainty. I wonder, is he sad because I won't be there for him anymore or because I looked pitiful?
" They do. It's almost winter." My reply is soft, barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile peace of our shared space. The room grows quiet once more, the only sound the soft hum of the heater struggling against the chill of impending winter. It wasn't like I was going to talk as cheerfully as I used to or laugh if he made a funny joke. I have forgotten what my laugh sounds like but I will never forget my cries when I'm in pain.
How many months has it been since I've felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, since I've walked through the park hand in hand with my husband, since I've savored the taste of a home-cooked meal? Time blurs together, days bleeding into weeks, weeks into months, until it feels like I've been trapped in this endless cycle of pain and longing forever.
Have I changed my bedsheet? The thought flickers briefly through my mind before being swallowed by the fog of exhaustion that clings to my every thought. Have we already had dinner? The empty plates on the bedside table provide a silent answer. Have I taken my medication? The pill organizer sits untouched, a stark reminder of my own neglect. When is my doctor coming? The question lingers, unanswered, as if even time itself has abandoned me to this endless waiting.
Hmmm... I wonder. The words echo in the cavernous depths of my mind, a solitary beacon of curiosity in the sea of despair that threatens to engulf me. What lies beyond this window? Beyond this room? Beyond this endless cycle of pain and longing? I may never know, but in this moment, the possibility is enough to chase away the shadows of despair, if only for a fleeting moment.
******
4th March, 2021...
" Hyejin,how do we go about this situation before our stock seize to rise? " The head of the marketing department's voice pulls me back to the present, back to the bustling conference room filled with anxious faces and looming deadlines.
"Well, as we all know, our products seem to be falling from grace to grass," I begin, my mind already racing with possibilities. "I would like to say there is no solution, but I have a plan."
I lay out my strategy, a bold move to invest in our products rather than just their packaging. The room erupts into a flurry of activity as everyone scrambles to set the plan in motion.
During the lunch break, whispers of doubt linger in the air. "Do you really believe Hyejin's plan will work?" a new worker asks, skepticism etched across their face.
"Our strategist's plans never fail," another replies with unwavering confidence. But my confidence is not enough to silence the doubts that linger, the fear of failure that gnaws at the edges of my mind.
"Could you explain the law of demand and supply? If you do, I'll tell you the reason behind my plans," I challenge, my gaze unwavering as I await their response.
The workers stare back at me, their silence speaking volumes. "If you have no way of replying to my question, then you have no right to question my strategy, understood?" I declare, rising from my seat and leaving the cafeteria behind.
*
This is Park Hye-jin. A strategist for Kim Industries. She is 26 years old with a loving husband. She grew up in a decent family and achieved success at an early age. But beneath the surface lies a sea of doubts and fears, waiting to be unleashed. *
"Honey, I'm home!" I announce as I step through the door, the warmth of familiarity enveloping me like a comforting embrace. I find my husband waiting for me, his smile a beacon of light in the darkness that threatens to consume me.
"Honey, when I turn 28 years old, I want us to have our own baby," I confess, my heart swelling with hope for the future. For a moment, it feels like everything in my life is finally falling into place.
But even as I speak those words, a nagging doubt lingers in the back of my mind. Will happiness always elude me, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand? Will the trials and tribulations of life continue to test me, pushing me to the brink of despair?
Imagine having everything in the world, only for it to come crumbling down one by one. The thought lingers like a shadow, a reminder of the fragile nature of happiness and the fleetingness of joy.
As the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months, I cling to the fragile threads of hope that bind me to this world. I may be broken, battered, and bruised, but I refuse to let despair consume me.
For within the depths of my soul, a flicker of light remains, a beacon of hope that refuses to be extinguished. And though the road ahead may be fraught with obstacles and challenges, I will face them head-on, armed with nothing but the strength of my spirit and the resilience of my heart.
For this is my story, a tale of sadness and happiness, of love and loss, of triumph and defeat. And though the ending may be uncertain, I will continue to write it with every breath I take, every step I make, until the final chapter is written and the last page turned.