Time was always moving forward and mindsets were always changing. This was obviously something that people couldn’t fight against, no matter how much they would love to. The world had the capacity of changing everything, not only nature and beauty of ordinary things around us, but also people. They tended to adapt to the world around them, wanting to fit into the society that wasn’t always made to accept everyone. People completely loved to pretend that nothing was changing about them. This was only an illusion created by the time, they would claim over and over again, actually starting to believe in their own lie. Nonetheless, the truth was that people indeed changed and not always were for good reasons.
The same happened to Bang Mirae, who was part of many families and of many worlds. Theoretically, this was the best way to describe her situation. Gwangju had been her hometown and while she never met her biological parents, she didn’t lack of love from the couple who adopted her when she was a baby. Jeju came into her life after their death and there, she went two different foster families. Dumped into the orphanage, she grew up there and met the love of her life in high school, only to have her heart broken at the end of senior year. Successful adopted by a family who sincerely knew the meaning of love, there was still a car accident until she could say ‘… and here we are, twenty-six years after’. Many moments of her life were stained inside of her mind. They obviously happened and changed her life. These moments molded Mirae’s personality and turned her into a stronger woman, even though she was still dependent of someone else’s love and dedication.
The woman she was today was because of these moments and without them, she wouldn’t be anything. Moments were like this were also created by people, some had been very important to her, but Mirae couldn’t say the same about everyone. This certainly wasn’t possible. Hyerin had been one of those significant pieces to the puzzle, named ‘her life’. Words were heard and advices were considered carefully. She obviously could understand what her friend was saying and to some extension, she could agree with her. Nonetheless, nothing was this simple in her life.
Hyerin’s description immediately sent her mind to Shin, something that shouldn’t be happening because thinking about him was something that Mirae had been trying to avoid. ❝You talk like a high-schooler.❞ The doctor tried to joke, even if the joke actually seemed to be so dry on her lips. There was a sigh that fell from her lips. ❝But that’s not always enough. The man of your life can always pass right in front of you because if the time isn’t right, then there is nothing you can do about it. Love like that only comes into your life once. If you miss your chance, then you can only move on.❞ It was quite rational, wasn’t it? ❝But I don’t want a romance, you know that. Dr Gook also knows that.❞ Mirae said this last part of the sentence too, in case she asked her about this. ❝This is only a date. Nothing else, I swear.❞
It was hard to pretend not to care when hyerin was a girl who cared all too much, but not everyone was allowed the liberty to expose much of themselves without being torn apart. Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but even the most dramatic of words could not strip away its truth: benevolence would not always receive kindness in return, and she had come to know that fact all too well from the past years. After all, when she used to wear her heart so openly on her sleeve, had they ever received her compassion gratefully or had it just been a facade, a part of their grand scheme to only climb high themselves?
In busan she had been surely untouchable, and if not in the sense itself, some variation of it. No one wanted to mess with the daughter of a man their fathers had owed to at some point or another, nor did they have any desire to befriend her, afraid of the very same reason. She had been regarded as that girl in class who, rather than having a name, was given a title, and that title had acted as a barrier in separating her from every other person her age. Sure, perhaps in a way those years had all been better than the times that followed, but a part of her so desperately fell in love with the feeling of being independent, of being able to interact and socialize and surround herself with friends - even if they were never true ones.
It had undoubtedly been a terrible way to live; she was always aware of how fake everyone was, how the older they grew, the more every dynamic had been morphed into a competition for university, for success. Joining clubs was all for the specs, the credits, the good marks on a resume that few colleges actually cared drastically about. Yes, she had been caught in that inevitable hurricane of academics and applications, but she had loved every second of it. From how she learned to shut up the vulnerable voices of her heart to how often she noticed the lies and false compliments, her time in seoul had taught her so much more than watching her parents do their work, living off their aspiration for her potential to do the same.
She smiled, unable to help the feeling of nostalgia that came along with the memories of her high school days. “You know what they say: we are the dreamers of tomor...” she began to quote, only to end shaking her head at herself. “That isn’t right, is it?” She heard mirae’s sigh, and a part of her wondered if her friend was merely recalling her past experiences to sound woeful, as if speaking of a lifetime regret. “Did you end up missing your chance?” she spoke quietly, hesitantly, reluctant to pry too much into something that was certainly private. “I do know that,” she admitted, “I mean, who knows? Maybe dr. gook will be good for you, and he’ll treat you to this amazing dinner that any woman would die for,” she said, a silly smile creeping back onto her lips.
