It's been nice to be in Korea. The change of scenery makes it easier to swallow the sadness into darker, more unknown places. I'm able to cope. Standing amidst all the other passengers in the subway or walking on the uneven, cobblestone sidewalks, I feel like he was nothing but a figment of my imagination--someone I created during a happier, more peaceful time in my life. But reality always manages to resurface, and with it comes the blunt force of loss.
Blinking away the last moments of sleep is the hardest. I dream about him still. Last night, I dreamt we were sitting in his car and were just talking. Nothing extravagant. All we did was talk. It was the simplicity that made it feel real. It felt so real that I deeply sunk into belief that this is my life as I know it now. So waking up and realizing that this was a thing of the past... Is it sad that a small part of me feels connected to him because I have these dreams? People keep telling me that it's not healthy to cling onto these visions. I know. I know I should let them go. I know I have to let him go. But easier said than done, right?
In the meantime, I'll try to enjoy Korea as best as I can because this is the country I love. And even though there are small reminders of him even here, this is the country that makes me feel the most myself, the most free.