Day: July 9, 2021

331 days.

That’s how long passed between leaving Kajal in Yeosu, at the time I thought probably forever, and returning to her yesterday. A long time – filled with lots of text messages, photos exchanged, and hundreds of video calls. 

It’s amazing to me how much video is no substitute for the reality of a human being. They can show you what she looks like, of course, and let you hear her words, but it’s nothing compared to being in a person’s presence. Video doesn’t capture the way they carry themselves, the little movements in their body as they walk, how big (or, in this case, how small!) they are compared to you. Truth is, video is fine for what it does, but it’s not a patch on the real thing.

She’s at work now, so she can’t watch over my shoulder as I write this (I’m in a coffee shop overlooking Yeosu’s central park, with a cup of tea and a book of World War I history next to me), so I can write about how special she is.

Getting to spend time with Kajal after 331 days apart is…hard to describe, though you can probably imagine it. Think, for a moment, of a hot room. I mean like an attic, or a shed, in the summer – no insulation, no breeze, no air conditioning. The air is stifling, each breath seeming to throw a heavy weight onto your lungs. You can feel the heat oppressing your skin, and it almost seems to press down on you, making every movement ten times as difficult. Now, imagine in that room, you throw open a window – and a cool breeze of fresh, spring air comes in. That’s what it’s like, seeing her again. Or you’re thirsty – hot, outside, hard work. But you’ve been thirsty for so long that you don’t even notice it anymore, your brain has compartmentalized the discomfort, and you forget about it – until you get that glass of cool water and can feel it flowing down into you. Just so – just walking next to her with Snowball in the park last night was a relief to me, when I had long since lost awareness of just how I missed her. Now I can hear her laugh, see the way she smiles (a bit shy, still) when I tease her, the little gestures where she’ll tuck her hair behind her ear, or her languid, easy pace as she walks. All the little things that you don’t notice you’re missing, on 331 days of video. Little things that you didn’t even know you loved about someone – until you see them again, after nearly a year.

I’m so relieved to be here at last.