Why Did You Leave

From atop the building, the city below was a blur of lights and movement, oblivious to his turmoil. The wind, sharp and biting, whipped around him, echoing his internal chaos. He stared down at the bustling street, the cars, the people, all moving forward with purpose, while he felt suspended in time, lost in his thoughts.

Why? Why did she leave?

We were perfect together. Weren't we?

I remember the first time I saw her in high school. She was the girl everyone wanted to be with, and somehow, she chose me. Me, the guy who barely scraped by in classes, who never quite fit in. I wasn't popular or particularly good-looking, but she saw something in me.

For five years, we built a life together. She stood by me even when I struggled, when I couldn't find a decent job, when my dreams seemed just out of reach. She believed in me.

We laughed, we cried, we shared every moment. She was my rock, my constant in a world that felt so uncertain.

But now... why?

His thoughts circled back, relentless. He could still see her smile, hear her laughter, feel her warmth. She had been his anchor, grounding him through the darkest times. When depression hit, and everything felt meaningless, she was there, pulling him back from the brink.

We had plans, dreams. We were supposed to grow old together.

Why?

The word echoed in his mind, a question without an answer. He clung to the memories, each one a painful reminder of what he had lost. The good times, the bad times, they were all part of their story. A story he thought would never end.

As he stood there, the city's noise rising up to meet him, he felt the weight of his loneliness. The bustling world below seemed so distant, so disconnected from his pain.

Why did she leave?

His voice broke, the whisper carried away by the wind. He felt the tears welling up, but he didn't fight them. There, on the edge, he let himself feel everything. The sorrow, the anger, the confusion. It all came crashing down.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The city below continued its relentless pace, indifferent to his suffering. But up here, in this moment, it was just him and his thoughts.

Why?

He knew he might never find the answer, but he needed to ask. Needed to understand.

With trembling hands, Jae-Hyun pulled out his phone, still standing precariously close to the edge. His vision blurred by tears, he typed in Hae-Won's name. She hadn't answered any of his calls or texts since that fateful day a month ago when she said they needed a break. Desperation gnawed at him. He decided to use star 67 to hide his number, hoping she might pick up.

The phone began to ring. Each tone stretched into an agonizing eternity. His breath hitched, his heart pounded. Then, miraculously, she answered.

Jae-Hyun could see her face in his phone—Hae-Won with her long, black hair cascading like silk, her glowing pale skin, and those mesmerizing brown eyes. The sight of her, brought a fresh wave of anguish.

His throat tightened, words barely escaping. "Why did you leave me?" he shouted, voice cracking.

The phone was silent for what felt like an eternity. Then, Hae-Won's voice came through, soft and weary. "Jae-Hyun, I'm just exhausted. I think a break for both of us is what we need so we can work on ourselves."

Jae-Hyun's sobs echoed through the phone, mingling with the sound of the wind howling around him. As he struggled to compose himself, another voice, one he could never forget, emerged from Hae-Won's end of the call. "Who are you talking to, Hae-Won?"

Jae-Hyun's eyes widened. That voice belonged to Ji-Hoon, the tormentor of his high school years. Ji-Hoon, the golden boy with rich parents who provided him with everything. He was the star of the basketball team, boasting athletic prowess that made him a school legend. With striking looks—sharp, confident eyes, a chiseled jawline, and a perpetual smirk that both charmed and intimidated—he had been the epitome of high school success. His grades matched his athletic achievements, paving his way to a prestigious career in cyber security at one of Korea's top companies.

Seeing Hae-Won's cheeks flush at Ji-Hoon's presence struck Jae-Hyun like a dagger. The sharp pain in his chest intensified, and he could hardly breathe.

"It's nobody," Hae-Won replied quickly, her voice strained. "I have to go. Sorry, Jae-Hyun."

The call abruptly ended, leaving Jae-Hyun standing there, phone in hand, tears streaming down his face.

"I have nothing," he whispered to himself, the words heavy with despair. "I am nothing."

He took a step closer to the edge, the abyss below beckoning him. The litany of self-recrimination began, each thought driving him further into the darkness. 

"I'm a failure. I couldn't even keep a job. My dreams? Worthless. She stayed with me out of pity."

The rain began to fall, light at first, then heavier, each drop like a cold reminder of his insignificance. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a harbinger of the storm to come.

"She deserves better. Someone like Ji-Hoon. Successful, handsome, everything I'm not."

His mind conjured images of Hae-Won and Ji-Hoon together, laughing, living a life he could never provide. The pain in his chest intensified, a physical ache that seemed to consume him.

"It's the gods' fault," he muttered, fists clenching. "They cursed me with this life. They took everything from me."

As he reached the edge, the wind howled, the city below blurred through the curtain of rain. Jae-Hyun's body shook, his resolve weakening, but the anguish was too powerful. He lifted one leg off the building, heart pounding.

Just then, his phone rang. Hae-Won's name flashed on the screen. For a split second, hope flickered.

But before he could react, a deafening clap of thunder split the sky. The sound startled him, his foot slipping. He lost his balance, and as he fell, his phone slipped from his grasp.

As Jae-Hyun plummeted towards the ground, his life flashed before his eyes. Regret surged through him, a torrent of sorrow and self-reproach. How could he have let his emotions drive him to this point?

Foolish. Weak.

He didn't want to die. Not really. It was the pain, the overwhelming despair that clouded his judgment. The faces of his mother and father swam before him, their love and sacrifices, everything they had done for him. And then there was Hae-Won, her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her embrace. All of it slipping away.

I'll never see them again. Never hold her again.

As the ground rushed up to meet him, he closed his eyes, a silent plea escaping his lips. Just one more chance. One more chance to redo things. I would try harder. Be more successful. Cherish Hae-Won more.

Then, everything went black.