Months passed, and the doctors sat me down. Of course, I didn't miss the box of tissues strategically placed on the corner of the desk, in easy reach like they expected me to cry, like they'd done this before and knew that was the inevitable outcome. But I resolved not to use it, not to need it. Whatever they had to say, I would take it with a stoic face, and fall apart later, in private. Trust me, I cried in the toilet, remembering the doctors' statement on saying that you might not remember about us forever.
Hwang Yeji,
30th January 2022,
Seoul.