Closing a Door that was Never Open
I remember when I first learned the word ģ§ģ¬ė (jjak sarang). I was in the side streets near a college campus around Seoul known for its performing arts program, and there was a whole row of doors leading to underground theaters. My friend explained that he picked a musical to watch, knowing that my Korean was too rudimentary to follow the plot of the more complex performances offered in the street. But a musical-- he explained-- that, at least, would give me more context clues to understand what was happening with the characters. I appreciated the amount of thought he put into my experience and for the next hour and a half, I watched as the 4 college performers multitasked and sang out the story of four different lives, each touched by this ģ§ģ¬ė.
ģ§ģ¬ė is best translated as "one-sided love" or "unrequited love." The way the word even sounds is like someone's thought being cut off with the harsh k of jjak then followed by the rolling of the coveted word, sarang ("love"). It's feels like an onomatopoeia of a lock being forced into place, as if to passively send a message to the person on the other side to "stay out."
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." Christian in Moulin Rouge
If I had to pick a name for the musical of my life, ģ§ģ¬ė might be one of my top choices. As skeptical as I try to be, I can't help but wonder if love songs are my diaries being sung out loud or if Shakespeare was really just prophesying my heart beat to iambic pentameter.
The way my skin tingles every time you brush up against me... Or the way I can describe from memory the delicate curve of your fingers and the small mole on your neck or side of your middle finger... how the wind blows through your hair, softly beckoning me to come closer... The way my body tenses every time you walk into the room, and me pretending to not notice but constantly monitoring as you move around the room, waiting for an opportunity to "spontaneously" run into you...
God, is anyone else thinking about me constantly as much as I am thinking about them?
Anyone who has spent time with me would notice right away how the smile that crosses my face around you is held in reserves for no one else... anyone who saw how I locked in to every word you said and gazed unwavering towards your every gesture was not out of politeness or kindness... no, it was out of hunger, and I haven't eaten since the last time we met.
This seems to be one compartment of my life that has managed to fight off my pervasive skepticism. Gawd, how I wish I was more skeptical in love. But I'm not. I'm hopelessly hopeful that you might feel the same way about me.
So I make excuses for your cold shoulders, justify that your schedule is too busy to meet me, you're not much of a texter anyways (but actually you are), and you're so introverted that you won't initiate a hang out.
Damn, even after all of my past one-sided heartthrobs, I still don't learn.
All these quotes about "if your heart is broken, that means you were brave/alive/hopeful enough to love" etc is trash.
No, I don't want my heart to be broken. No, I don't want heartbreak to be the litmus test to remind me that I'm living. I want to be loved in return... for my heart racing as we touch to be proof that my heart is beating. I want to watch the light of blue hour glow on your lashes, hearing your soft breathing as your flesh presses into mine. I want to feel the warmth as our bodies meld into one, I want to get lost in your neck as your crevices become the one world I want to explore.
If I can feel all of this and more... might you feel that way about me?
What's worse is when I think that's the direction we're going. When your hug lingers a tad longer than is platonic, your eyes slowly rest on my lips, and you make promises of sharing future moments together.
What's worse is how that's all I need to feel my world brighten into rays of possibility and hope. How one slip of your hand to touch mine is enough to turn off all sounds in a car so that I could replay the scene uninterrupted in the solitude of my drive.
But that's how you are when we're with each other. As I'm drowning in anticipation of seeing you again, you seem like just a dream that ended as soon as the moment was over. Your absence and lack of reaching out in between these "appointments" make me wonder... was that a performance? Did you enjoy seeing my heart tug on a string, knowing I only let you hold the other end? Did you see another side of me in my moment of weakness and decide I wasn't enough for you?
This space of not knowing... drives me crazy. Was any of that real? Am I that delusional to think there was a possibility of us? It drives me back into myself... to put up the walls that I wish was there in the beginning. To never have experienced any of this.
What's worse: knowing there's something sweet that I'll never be able to taste, or going through life never knowing what I was missing out on?
Is ignorance bliss better than the disappointment that comes after falling for the Perfect You only to find that Perfection didn't think the same of me?
I was doing fine before you came back into my life. I had relationships and goals that satisfied me...
But do I really wish you never colored my days with laughter and tears?
In a crowd where I feel like no one could understand me... could love the same things I love, or challenge me to go out of my comfort zone to actually engage in fields I despise (politics, of all things!)... thank you.
Thank you for letting me experience you, inviting me into your stories, and gracing me with your time. Thank you for being a spark to show me that there are still surprises out there, that there's more than me. I started writing this out of heartbreak, hating where we are now, never wanting to let someone close to me again. But you are a true delight to hold, the timbre of your voice resonating above the cacophony of this world, your mind a true beauty of genuine care and pleasant wit.
I'm sorry for making it more than it was and didn't mean to make you collateral to my moody heartbreak... I'm sorry if I seemed disinterested to make sure others didn't see what is written all over my face when I'm with you-- that I'm utterly in awe of you.
I sincerely wish you the best.
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