“Promise,” I agree. “When I bring my supplies, I fully expect you to learn.” I laugh a laugh sweeter than cotton candy.
Before I lose the courage to ask, I sputter out, “Can we install Grant’s cabinets here?”
“If that’s what you want,” Jae responds, his voice settled.
I look around the apartment, taking in the scene.
The corner unit apartment opens up into the open concept kitchen that looks into the main living room, with the studio space off to the side, enclosed by two French doors. The first hall to the right of the kitchen leads down to the main bedroom with the master bath. The second hall to the left leads to the second and third bedrooms, connected by a jack and jill bathroom, one of which will be used by Jae’s mother.
The kitchen closely resembles Jae’s old kitchen, with many of the same appliances and gadgets and dining room table. His leather sofa sits prominently in the middle of his living room, facing an out-of-commission fireplace with the TV mounted above the mantle. It is very much Jae’s apartment.
And soon it will be mine.
“That’s what I want.”
22
This time I have a choice.
And I choose to tape up the remaining boxes.
I slap packing tape on top of every box with more excitement than I have ever mustered, after putting all of my belongings back into the cardboard boxes and rubber tubs from which they came.
Between all the calamity of packing and moving, I haven’t had time to think.
Good fucking riddance is all I have to say this time around. Saying goodbye is usually not an easy task for me, but this time, the words flow off my tongue with ease.
I’m ready to go.
I’m ready and I don’t have to convince myself this time.
The first time I walked into this apartment I was a blubbering, miserable mess. But I’m not just a partitioned piece of my old self anymore. I will leave this place a puzzle that is a little bit more put together.
It wasn’t anything Jae did. Love is not a cure—but letting it back into my life, even in the most minuscule of forms—has healed me in the ways I had ached for.
Holding a hand through a balmy walk in the park, basking in the sunshine on a bench.
Watching someone from across the room, knowing you’re on their mind.
Placing the last piece of fish on someone else’s plate or buying a slice of cake on the way home.
Sharing a bed with a warm body because home is wherever they are.
A home is not the four walls that surround you.
No, I am not miserable any longer. Nothing is out to get me.
It’s the kind of summer night where the sky won’t let go of the sun, the bars are open till midnight, and everyone is fifteen minutes late because they stop to admire the flowers or pet the stray cat or call their mom. Even though we can’t see them, the stars admire us from above.
It’s been a month since Jae asked me to move in, and today, I did. Jae and I hauled all of my boxes ourselves, and now we sit on the stoop of our building, drinking iced tea straight from the bottle. This man truly loves me too much. He closed the restaurant for the day to help me.
Lily is stretched out on the concrete in front of us. I was almost more worried about Lily’s adjustment than my own, but she and Young-mi have become fast friends. Mae and Young-mi garden in the small terrace in front of the stoop, and soon Jae will have fresh squashes and peppers and herbs to cook with.
I squeeze Jae’s shoulder, stand up and walk through the vestibule to the apartment door. Grant’s cabinets were installed last week. I put my easels in the studio, Lily’s dog beds in the living room, and my crackers in the kitchen cabinet.
I have my own cup of water on the bedside table.
My own mugs in the cabinet.
