My Roman Empire Is Arguing With Myself About Jikook-
I am reaching a point in my Jikook journey where I genuinely need someone to explain the laws of human interaction to me because every time I attempt to be rational, objective, balanced, and intellectually honest, I end up accidentally becoming even more convinced that these two are not operating under the standard “brothers/bandmates/best friends” framework.
And before anyone says it:
Yes. I know. I know the word.
I have heard it. I have embraced it. I have embroidered it onto a decorative throw pillow and placed it prominently in my living room.
But at what point does one stop being delusional and start being a confused anthropologist observing a phenomenon for which existing vocabulary seems insufficient?
Because every single time I sit down and tell myself, “Okay. Be normal. These are just two men who have worked together for years,” I inevitably end up staring at another compilation, another interaction, another moment of inexplicable emotional gravity between them and thinking:
What exactly is everyone else’s definition of “just friends”?
Where are these friendships?
Can they be located geographically?
Because if there is apparently a thriving population of platonic male friends who behave with this level of emotional intimacy, physical magnetism, mutual fixation, attentiveness, fondness, comfort, and what can only be described as gravitational pull toward one another, then I seem to have somehow missed an entire branch of sociology.
What I am saying is that every attempt to explain them as “nothing unusual” somehow requires more mental gymnastics than the alternative.
I no longer feel obligated to explain why people see something there.
I need someone to explain why people don’t.
And no, before anyone starts drafting think pieces, I am fully aware that affection exists. I am aware that friendship exists. I am aware that cultural differences exist. I am aware that men are capable of emotional closeness.
In fact, I strongly support all of those things, but there comes a point where my brain begins conducting comparative analysis.
Because when I look at ordinary friendships and then look at whatever those two have going on, the difference is not quantitative, It is qualitative.
And every time I tell myself I am reading too much into it, another interaction emerges from the archives like a peer-reviewed rebuttal.
At this point I feel less like a shipper and more like a defense attorney whose client keeps producing additional evidence.
The evidence locker is overflowing.
Meanwhile I am sitting here attempting to write a reasonable conclusion and arriving only at:
Your Honor, I would like to submit Exhibit 7,842 and also whatever the hell that eye contact was.
Perhaps they are simply extraordinarily close.
Perhaps they are soulmates in the broadest possible human sense.
Perhaps they are best friends.
Perhaps they are something else entirely.
The truth is that none of us actually know.
What I do know is that every time someone confidently says, “They’re obviously just brothers,” my immediate response is:
I am begging you to introduce me to siblings who behave like this.
Not because I wish to argue.
Not because I wish to fight.
But because I have questions.
Questions that deserve funding.
Until then, I will continue existing in the strange intellectual space between skepticism and conviction, where every attempt to become less delulu somehow results in becoming more delulu.
A condition from which I currently have no desire to recover.
I personally believe Jikook have been an item for quite a number of years, and yet I routinely find myself sitting in the corner of my room conducting a full internal cross examination of my own beliefs.
I approach the subject with all the rigor of a skeptical academic determined to dismantle a questionable thesis.
I consider alternative explanations.
I challenge my assumptions.
I actively try to debunk myself.
And somehow, every single time, I emerge from the investigation less skeptical than when I started.
Which frankly feels like a design flaw.
At this point my relationship with Jikook is not even shipping anymore. It is an ongoing intellectual exercise in which I attempt to prove myself wrong and then accidentally write a stronger argument for the opposite conclusion.
The thing is, I am fully aware that I do not know these people.
I am aware that edited clips exist.
I am aware that friendships can be affectionate.
I am aware that emotional closeness does not automatically equal romance.
Every time I confidently announce that I am being delulu, another part of my brain immediately responds:
The certainty with which I call myself delulu is directly proportional to how unconvinced I am that I’m actually wrong.
It’s a very inefficient system.
I keep waiting for the moment where everything suddenly clicks and I go, “Ah yes, of course. They are obviously just bandmates. Mystery solved.”
Instead, years later, I am still staring into the void like a conspiracy theorist whose corkboard has become self-aware.
Not because I need them to be together.
Not because I think I know their lives.
But because every attempt to explain away my observations somehow requires more effort than simply accepting that I have questions.
Far too many questions for people who allegedly occupy the category of “nothing to see here.”
So yes, perhaps I am delulu.
But if I am, then why has my most successful method of becoming less delulu consistently resulted in becoming more delulu?
That seems scientifically significant.
Anyway, thank you for attending this completely unnecessary rant.
I have spent an embarrassing amount of my free time trying to disprove my own opinions.
The investigation remains ongoing.
The evidence board is still hanging on the wall.
And I, unfortunately, remain unconvinced by my own attempts at skepticism.
Thank you for tuning in to this episode of:
“Am I Delulu, Or Am I Just Observant?”
The answer remains unknown.
