The weight of goodbye
The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden light over the fields that stretched endlessly around the farm. Jiyoon sat on the weathered wooden steps of the farmhouse, a notebook balanced on her knees. Her pen hovered over the page, the words she had written earlier now staring back at her like a secret she wasn’t sure how to share.
Jungeun emerged from the barn, wiping her hands on a towel. She had been helping Jiyoon with the chores all morning, insisting that she wanted to experience the farm life fully before she had to leave. But now, as Jungeun approached, Jiyoon felt the familiar flutter in her chest, a mixture of excitement and dread.
“What are you working on?” Jungeun asked, sitting down beside her.
Jiyoon hesitated, her fingers tightening around the notebook. “It’s… just something I wrote,” she said softly.
Jungeun tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Can I see?”
Jiyoon bit her lip, her cheeks warming. She had never shared her poems with anyone before, but something about Jungeun made her want to open up. Slowly, she handed over the notebook.
Jungeun took it carefully, her eyes scanning the page. As she read, her expression softened, her lips curving into a small, tender smile.
In your eyes, I see the stars I’ve dreamed of touching,
In your voice, I hear the melody I’ve been too afraid to sing.
You are the call of the world beyond these fields,
A pull I cannot resist, even if it scares me.
If love is stepping into the unknown,
Then I’ll follow you, even if it means leaving myself behind.
Jungeun looked up, her eyes glistening. “Jiyoon… this is beautiful.”
Jiyoon’s heart raced. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Jungeun said firmly, her voice filled with emotion. She reached out, placing a hand over Jiyoon’s. “You have such a way with words. It’s like you’re painting feelings I didn’t even know I had.”
Jiyoon smiled shyly, the praise warming her from the inside out. “I’ve always loved writing. And singing too,” she admitted. “But I’ve never really done anything with it. It’s always been just for me.”
Jungeun’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why not? You’re so talented, Jiyoon. I can see it.”
Jiyoon hesitated, her gaze drifting to the horizon. “Because this is all I’ve ever known,” she said quietly. “The farm, the village… it’s safe. It’s comfortable. But sometimes I feel like the world outside is calling to me, like there’s something more I’m supposed to do. And that scares me. What if I can’t handle it? What if I fail?”
Jungeun’s grip on her hand tightened. “You won’t fail,” she said firmly. “I’ve seen how strong you are, Jiyoon. The way you face everything with courage, even when it’s hard. You can do anything you set your mind to.”
Jiyoon turned to her, her eyes filled with vulnerability. “I don’t know if I can leave this place… but if it meant being with you, Jungeun, I think I’d try.”
Jungeun’s expression softened, her heart aching at the sincerity in Jiyoon’s voice. Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Reluctantly, she pulled it out, her face falling as she read the message.
“What is it?” Jiyoon asked, her chest tightening at the change in Jungeun’s demeanor.
Jungeun sighed, her shoulders slumping. “It’s my manager,” she said. “They’ve found a new company for izna. I have to go back to Seoul.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Jiyoon felt her throat tighten, the thought of Jungeun leaving hitting her like a punch to the gut.
“When do you have to leave?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Tomorrow,” Jungeun replied, her own voice cracking.
The rest of the day passed in a haze, a bittersweet blur of moments they tried to savor but couldn’t fully embrace. Jiyoon and Jungeun walked through the fields one last time, their steps slow and deliberate, as if dragging out each second could somehow delay the inevitable. The sun was warm on their faces, but the warmth couldn’t quite reach the cold ache in their hearts.
They sat beneath the old oak tree near the edge of the farm, the one Jiyoon had loved since she was a child. Its sprawling branches shaded them as they leaned against the trunk, shoulders brushing. Jiyoon brought out a basket of freshly picked strawberries, and they shared them in silence, their laughter from earlier now replaced by a heavy quiet.
“Do you think things will change when you’re gone?” Jiyoon asked softly, her voice trembling.
Jungeun stared at the horizon, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Things always change,” she said after a long pause. “But I don’t want us to.”
Jiyoon’s chest tightened. She wanted to believe that, but the uncertainty loomed too large to ignore. She turned to Jungeun, her gaze searching. “Promise me,” she whispered. “Promise me you won’t forget about us.”
Jungeun reached for her hand, her fingers curling around Jiyoon’s. “I promise,” she said, her voice firm despite the tears glistening in her eyes. “You’re in my heart, Jiyoon. No distance can change that.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, they returned to the farmhouse. The air was thick with unspoken words as they prepared dinner together, their movements slower than usual, as if prolonging even the smallest moments. When night fell, they sat on the porch, wrapped in a shared blanket, watching the stars appear one by one.
Jungeun pointed out constellations, her voice soft and wistful. “Do you think they look the same in Seoul?”
Jiyoon nodded, her voice barely audible. “They do. But they’ll feel different without you here.”
Neither of them slept much that night. The hours slipped by as they talked about everything and nothing, their laughter occasionally breaking through the sadness. When silence fell, they simply sat together, holding on to the fleeting time they had left.
By the time the first light of dawn crept over the fields, the air between them felt heavier than ever. They stood by the dusty road, Jungeun’s suitcase resting beside her, and Jiyoon felt like the ground might give way beneath her feet.
Jungeun looked at Jiyoon, her expression torn. “I don’t want to leave,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
Jiyoon shook her head, her throat tight as tears welled in her eyes. “But you have to,” she said, her voice breaking. “They need you, Jungeun. Your dreams need you.”
Jungeun stepped closer, her hands shaking as she unclasped the necklace she always wore. It was a small silver chain with a delicate charm, simple yet deeply meaningful. She took Jiyoon’s hand, pressing the necklace into her palm and closing her fingers around it.
“This will bring you closer to me, even if we’re apart,” Jungeun said softly, her voice breaking.
Jiyoon stared at the necklace, her tears spilling over as she clutched it tightly. “Jungeun…”
Jungeun pulled her into a fierce embrace, her arms wrapping around Jiyoon as if she could hold her forever. “I’ll come back,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know when, but I will. And when I do, I want you to be ready—to chase your dreams, Jiyoon. Promise me you’ll try.”
Jiyoon nodded against her shoulder, her tears soaking into Jungeun’s jacket. “I’ll try,” she whispered, though her heart felt like it was being torn in two.
The sound of an approaching car broke the moment, and Jungeun reluctantly pulled away, her hand lingering on Jiyoon’s cheek for a moment longer. “You’ll be okay,” she said, as much to herself as to Jiyoon.
Jiyoon bit her lip, her hands trembling as she nodded. “So will you.”
Jungeun smiled through her tears, her resolve faltering as she climbed into the waiting car. The door closed with a finality that echoed in Jiyoon’s chest.
As the car began to pull away, Jungeun leaned out the window, her hand raised in a silent farewell. Jiyoon stood frozen, clutching the necklace to her chest, her heart aching with every inch of distance that grew between them.
The world around her felt both impossibly vast and unbearably small. The fields that had always been her sanctuary now felt like a cage, and the necklace in her hand felt like a tether—one that bound her to Jungeun even as it reminded her of how far away she was.
As the car disappeared down the road, Jiyoon sank to her knees, the morning light casting long shadows across the ground. Her tears fell silently, blending with the dew on the grass. She felt torn between the safety of her life here and the pull of the dreams she had always kept hidden.
For the first time, she felt the weight of possibility pressing down on her. And though fear gripped her, Jungeun’s words echoed in her mind: Be ready to chase your dreams.
Jiyoon closed her eyes, her fingers tightening around the necklace. Maybe, just maybe, she was ready to try.