Sleepless in Seoul
Making sense
It is past midnight and Rusty is asleep. I am not. It’s been a few strange days since I arrived in Seoul on Saturday. During the week, we’ve settled into a easy, if not awkward routine.
We wake up in the morning, have breakfast, and he goes to work. We meet for lunch. I come home, work on a few columns, wait for him at the apartment. Sometimes we meet again outside for dinner. Other times, like today, we stay home and order in. We watch television. We chit chat. He falls asleep and soon, I follow. The day restarts.
It’s not a bad life. There are moments when it all makes sense. Like tonight, when apparently out of the blue, he takes my hand and says he loves me. His eyes are on the television but I know he sees me. I squeeze his hand, and even though I say nothing, we are completely understood.
But there are also moments when nothing makes sense. Like right now, as he is lying in bed, the knowledge that tomorrow will be our last night together weighs heavily on my mind.