#lowercase writing

[yeueun]

i lie on my bed with nothing left to do but think of her—someone who existed in your life before me. it is strange how carefully i remember every detail you once gave me, every answer to a question i wish i had never asked. the ache coils in my stomach each time i am reminded that i was not the first person you loved. it frightens me, knowing what you are capable of when you give your heart so fully. i wonder if your eyes once held the same satisfaction, if your devotion once leaned this deeply toward someone else. i ask myself whether the tenderness you give me was ever hers first, whether the way you choose me now is only an echo of what you once chose for her. the thought makes me ill. it drags me under until i feel as though i might drown in it, until the pain rises so sharply i want to vomit it out of my body. this jealousy is a sickness i carry quietly. i want to love you the way you deserve—to trust every gesture, every word—but instead i doubt, and doubt becomes a wound i reopen again and again. i know this suffering is of my own making, that i am torturing myself with memories that are not mine to hold, yet still i return to them, as if pain is the only proof that i care this much.

[yeueun]

ㅤ

　 ⸝⸝　a　ਏਓ 　love　{..}　curse　丶.

　 9PM　爱. #InkMadeOfMemory ฺ

　 🗒️　╱ ⠀메모에 담긴 사랑ꜝꜝ !⠀ ❀ ⠀៸៸

let me be the longing your dreams cannot escape.

let me haunt the words you try to speak but never dare to name. when you sit by a bus window, watching the world slide past you, may the scenery whisper me back into your mind without your consent. may my voice remain lodged somewhere in your hearing—faint, persistent—the kind that tightens your chest and leaves a quiet ache in your stomach, the kind that makes you realize too late that yearning itself began the moment you met me.

every road you walk, no matter how far, will always bend back in my direction. let me live inside the corners of your memory, carried to you by wind you cannot stop, by silence you cannot outrun. may you learn to live with the emptiness of wanting to hear from me again—and knowing you never will. may every light you pass remind you of how brightly i once existed in your life, and how you can no longer call that light your own. may the darkest hours of your days be filled with the soundless echo of my name, as if even the air you breathe refuses to let me go.

and when you meet new faces along the road you choose without me, may my shadow linger in them—just enough to remind you that some absences do not fade, they deepen. some people do not leave; they remain like a curse, living inside the longing they taught you how to feel.

may the rain drench you in the scent of the love i once gave you—so familiar that it unsettles you, so tender that it hurts to breathe it in. may every shelter you find feel incomplete, as if warmth itself remembers the shape of my absence. and when a friend holds you close, may the comfort only deepen the hollow inside you, because their arms will never fit the way mine once did.

may the patterns of the ceiling at night begin to gather into my face without your permission—lines and shadows arranging themselves into something you cannot unsee. may that image linger even after you close your eyes, pressed into your thoughts like a mark that refuses to fade.

and when you lie alone in your bedroom, half-asleep and drifting, may there always be a blur at the edge of your mind—a feeling that i am still there, still breathing somewhere just beyond your reach, living only in the place where memory and longing refuse to let each other die.

[yeueun]

the miracle of having you

i think i had been calling out for you long before i ever knew your name. you came to me like a sunrise after a long, private darkness, and for so long i suffered without understanding what i was missing—only that someone like you had yet to arrive. i was longing, searching, waiting for a soul that felt familiar, and somehow it was always you, even before i knew you were real.

i have never known a love so patient, so gentle, so quietly kind that words almost fail me. the way you care for me feels effortless, as though loving me is something your heart has always known how to do. every small devotion, every quiet act of tenderness, settles into me and reminds me how deeply seen i am. i am endlessly thankful for you—so much so that the thought of losing someone this beautiful almost breaks me. it leaves me shaken, undone by the fear of a world where you are not beside me. at night, i find myself whispering hopes into the dark—that you never disappear from my life, that your days remain gentle, your heart unburdened, and your happiness always within reach.

i want to have you for a lifetime, though even a lifetime feels too short. you make me so happy, you make my heart feel lighter, healthier, as if it has finally learned how to rest. i love how you quiet my thoughts, how you sit with me in my lowest energy, when i have no strength for the world and want no one else around. i love how you listen—sometimes in silence—yet still make me feel completely heard and understood. i have never known someone who understands me this deeply, who reaches for me with such care that solitude no longer feels comforting unless it is shared with you. i love the kind of alone that exists only with you. your presence feels like something i have been searching for all my life without knowing its name. i may be a mess, but never in your eyes; you hold me as though i am simple to love, never too heavy, never too much. with you, i feel enough. with you, i feel wanted.

there is nothing left for me to ask of this world. to share a life with you—to gather joy from ordinary moments and turn them into something sacred—is already more than enough. your presence alone is my reason for gratitude. that the universe dared to shape you, and then let me find you, feels like its greatest mercy. you are the art i will carry with me always, the masterpiece my heart chose to keep.