Everywhere With You

Archive description

Chapter 7: The Words That Never Came

♥ 0

"Sometimes, the hardest part isn't finding a letter. It's finding the courage to read it."

Boom stood perfectly still. The envelope remained in his hands. It wasn't heavy—just a few sheets of paper. And yet... he had never held something that weighed so much.

His fingertips slowly traced Smart's handwriting: For Boom.

How many times had he seen those familiar letters? On grocery lists, on little notes left on the table, on reminders stuck to the refrigerator. He had never imagined he would see that handwriting again like this.

Slowly, he slid down onto the floor of the study. Resting his back against the desk, he took a deep breath. He tried to open the envelope, but he couldn't.

He carefully placed it on the desk. He needed a moment.

He stood up and wandered aimlessly through the apartment. Out of habit, he walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was completely empty.

A bittersweet smile appeared on his lips. Almost instantly, a memory found him:
"Didn't you buy anything again?"

"I was going to order takeout."
"You can't survive on takeout every day."
"Sure I can."

Smart shook his head as he unpacked the grocery bags. "Never leave the fridge empty."

A quiet laugh escaped Boom's lips—a broken laugh, the kind that lasts only a second before turning into tears.

He closed the refrigerator, walked back into the study, and saw the envelope exactly where he had left it, waiting for him. He picked it up once more and took a slow, steady breath.

He had waited six months to understand Smart. He could wait five more minutes before reading the words that would change everything.

Finally... he opened the envelope. Inside were several neatly folded sheets of paper. With trembling hands, he unfolded them and began to read.

My beloved Boom,
If you're reading this letter... then once again, my silence arrived before my words.
I wish you had never had to find these pages. I wish I had found the courage to sit in front of you, look into your eyes, and tell you all of this myself.
I think you already know what I'm like. I've never been good at talking about how I feel. I've never known how to find the right words. So I always hoped my actions would speak for me.
Boom stopped reading. His vision blurred with tears.
He remembered every single time he had asked, "What's wrong?" And every single time, he had received exactly the same answer: "Nothing."
Now he understood. That "nothing" had never meant a lack of love. It had meant fear.
He took a shaky breath, wiped his eyes, and kept reading:
I never hid my worries because they weren't important. It was exactly the opposite.
I knew you had difficult days too. That you carried your own fears, your own insecurities, your own battles, your own exhaustion.
And I never wanted to become one more weight on your shoulders. I thought that if I could solve everything on my own... you would be able to rest a little more. I believed that was what protecting you meant.
I never imagined that my silence would slowly push you away.
Boom pressed the letter against his chest. "Why didn't you ever tell me...?" he whispered through tears. If only he had known... If only Smart had allowed him to carry even a small part of that burden... Maybe... everything would have been different.
He looked back at the letter:
I've never been good at saying, "I love you." So I tried to show it the only way I knew how.
Every medicine I brought you whenever you got sick...
Every meal that mysteriously appeared in your dressing room because I knew you hadn't had time to eat...
Every cup of coffee I made for you...
Every time I pulled the blanket back over you because you always kicked it away while sleeping... Every night I stayed awake until I heard you come home...
Every time I pretended I wasn't tired just so I could make sure you had made it back safely... All of that... was my way of saying: "I love you."
And there's something I never confessed.
Every time you traveled... I could never sleep well.
I kept wondering if you had eaten. If you were getting enough rest. If someone was taking care of you when I couldn't. If people were treating you with the kindness and respect you deserve. If you had remembered to bring a jacket when it was cold. If your smile was real... or just another smile for the cameras.
Sometimes I'd stare at the clock, trying to imagine which part of the world you were in.
And as ridiculous as it may sound... I could only fall asleep peacefully after receiving a message from you that said: "I'm here."
I never told you... but whenever you were away... distance always slept worse than I did.
Tears began to fall onto the paper. Boom didn't even try to wipe them away. Every memory came rushing back: the bag filled with medicine, the cookies, the rain, the plant at the café. Every little thing he had once dismissed as a simple gesture... had always been a declaration of love.

He kept reading:

I've never been happier than I was from the day you came into my life.
Thank you for teaching me that a house could become a home. Thank you for every hug. Thank you for every laugh. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for waiting for me... even while I was still learning how to open my heart.
I'm sorry for taking so long. I'm sorry for learning too late.
You have no idea how many times I stood in front of the mirror, rehearsing everything I wanted to tell you. And every single time, I'd end up thinking... "Tomorrow."
There was always a tomorrow.
Until one day... there wasn't.
If one day someone makes you smile again... promise me you won't hide that smile out of fear.
You deserve to be unbelievably happy. Even if that future no longer includes me.
Because if there's one thing I learned from loving you... it's that your smile... and the way your eyes lit up whenever you were happy... became the place where I found peace. The place where I found the strength to keep moving forward.
I promised myself that I would always protect you. And every single day, I truly tried to keep that promise. Even if, so many times... I did it the wrong way.
I never stopped loving you. Not for a single day.
And I think... I never will.

With all my love.

Always.

Smart

P.S. If tomorrow I fall silent again... please... don't stop believing that I'm still trying.
Boom couldn't keep reading. His vision blurred completely. Smart's final words dissolved beneath the tears that fell onto the pages, one after another.
His hands began to tremble. With extraordinary care—as though he were afraid of damaging the last piece of Smart that still remained—he folded each page exactly the way Smart had folded them, slipped them back into the envelope, and held it in his hands for a few long moments. Then... slowly pressed it against his chest.

He closed his eyes. For the first time since everything had ended... he stopped trying to hold back the tears.

He cried for every conversation they never had. For every hug they never gave each other. For every time he had mistaken silence for a lack of love.

And most of all... he cried because he had just realized that Smart had loved him every single day... in a language he had never learned to understand.

For a long time... nothing else existed. Only the sound of his uneven breathing... and the silence of the apartment that had once been filled with laughter.

Then... through trembling tears, barely above a whisper, he spoke the words he had been carrying inside him for six long months:
"I'm sorry..."
The room remained completely silent. No one answered.
And yet... for just a moment... Boom felt as though he could still find shelter in Smart's arms. As though the warmth of that embrace still lived somewhere inside his memories.
Little by little, his breathing steadied. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and looked around the study one last time.

A notebook rested on the desk—the same notebook where, years ago, he had written unfinished melodies, scattered lyrics, and ideas that had never become songs.

He picked it up, turned to a blank page, and held the pen in his hand for several long seconds. He didn't know what to write; he didn't know where to begin.
Until, almost without realizing it... the words began to flow on their own:
"How much time has passed...?"
Boom stared at that single line. A tear fell onto the fresh ink.
He didn't know it yet... but he had just written the very first words of the song that would finally tell Smart everything he had never been able to say in return

End of Chapter Seven.