twenty-two heartbreaks | m i n s u n g

heartbreak zero

Lee Minho's world was leaving him.

By "his world," Minho meant Han Jisung.

Minho was sitting peacefully on his couch, scrolling through his Instagram feed. Beside him, Jisung was writing furiously in a notebook that he had bought months before. Minho saw a funny post that reminded him of Chan, one of his friends. Tapping Jisung's shoulder, Minho shoved the screen near Jisung's face. "Hey, Ji-Ji—"

Minho never finished his sentence, as Jisung slapped his hand away. "Don't 'Ji-Ji' me, Lee Minho," Jisung snapped.

Minho blinked. What happened? "You okay?" Minho asked, his voice brimming with concern.

"It's over. We're over. Thanks for the ride, but, no thanks. I'm leaving in three days, and nothing, I repeat, nothing, will make me love you again."

Three days passed by in a flash.

The first had been a general shock. Minho locked himself in his room, trying to figure out what was happening. He couldn't wrap the fact that Jisung was leaving him around his head. It seemed impossible, almost like a joke. 

The only time Minho opened the door was for Jisung, who had calmly asked to collect his pictures. The whole time Jisung was picking up every frame but the ones with Minho, Minho stared at his back.

Jisung wasn't leaving him.

The second day was dedicated to grief. Minho started crying and crying, leaving Jisung to deal with the noise. It wasn't impossible, Minho realized, it had just happened. The world was leaving him to fend for himself.

The memories began flooding in. When Minho had first confessed to Jisung under the stars in Seoul, when they went on their first date and Jisung spilled ketchup on Minho's favorite shirt (the one that Jisung got him), or their first fight, which resulted in a lot of crying and hugging.

It seemed unfair to Minho that this could all disappear in a matter of 72 hours. 

The third day was denial. Minho wouldn't let Jisung leave him.

"JIsung, hey. I cooked pancakes. Want some?" Minho asked as Jisung walked into the kitchen.

Minho's heart sank, already too broken to break again, when Jisung scoffed. "We've already broken up. Why do you still care?"

Needless to say, Minho was lost.

When Jisung left, on the fourth day, Minho clung to Jisung's leg. 

Looking down at Minho, Jisung sighed. "Minho. Please. Let me leave. It's for the best, you know? I'd rather be happy than be here."

Minho looked back at Jisung, his eyes welling with tears. "Aren't I your happiness?"

Jisung turned his head. "You used to be."

The fourth day, Minho realized, was acceptance.

It hurt, yes, to realize the man that you loved was going to leave you, but what could Minho do? Jisung deserved to be happy. If Minho truly loved the other, he would have seen that earlier. How stupid could he be?

Slowly, Minho forced the memory to fade into the back of his head. Minho had to find a new life, a new reason to live. It was easier said than done.

Even months after their breakup, Minho still found himself setting two plates, making two times the amount of food, and cleaning Jisung's computer room, despite it being long emptied. Something about him just made it impossible for Minho to forget.

"I'm sorry, Minho, but it really sounds like you're suffering from unrequited love," Woojin diagnosed, sitting with Minho on his couch. He had a cup of apple juice in his hand while Minho had a glass of soju.