you ever read fanfics so good, you end up crying?

 yes, that's all I wanted to say. 

how easily some people line up one beautiful word after another to create a whirlpool of emotions.

feeling blessed

 I'm feeling more alive. I'm happy to be alive. It will change tomorrow, probably. But I am feeling blessed today. A long way to go still, but that's living. 

Mosaic

Our lives are intertwined. It's been half a decade and I still pray to gods that are not mine. At home, we add green sprouts to our chatpatey, after a relative I don't talk to at all or even particularly like, made it for me. If I come across news about a football club or a footballer, I still wish them good luck because they are a favourite of a partner some years past. I've been meaning to read a book ever since a friend said she loved it and every time I see the book or author mentioned, I remember I need to read it because my friend loves this book. 

Black coffee reminds me of another friend. Different comic books are forever tied to different sets of people. 

'I am a mosaic of everyone I've ever loved, even for a heartbeat.'

my sweet boys, I miss you

 Do you ever think of your pets who are no longer with you?

I think of our dog - our energetic, unruly boy who was unfortunate enough to be stuck in a home where we were ill prepared to take care of him. But he went to a good home, to people who wanted him so I am very grateful. I hope he is happy.

But it still haunts me that we were not good enough. I hope he did not suffer from being far away from us, I hope he forget us. Do dogs forget the people they've known?

And then our sweet cat who was still a very young boy. He went out for his usual scamper around the neighbourhood last April and never returned. Despite looking for him for days and posting online on social media, we were not able to find him.

Then about 10 months later, we got a call from the vet that our sweet boy had been killed in an accident. The most devastating thing was that the accident was just a street down our house. He probably got lost and forgot his way home. It breaks my heart to think of him scared and hungry.

I hope to be a better person so I can take care of my pets better.

your vision blears, you carry your weather with you

 This is a story I heard from a friend of a friend. 

Usually something to take with a pinch of salt. But I've been watching 'I've been thinking of ending things' - and listening to this story, at that particular time, was just like being hit in my solar plexus. 

A friend of a friend lives in a big apartment block. Recently, they had been dealing with a dirty smell permeating the entire apartment block, especially the pathway just outside the apartment entrance. Then one night, the friend heard a big splash. it smelled like urine and feces. The friend screamed at whoever it was. Silence from all around. 

A few days later, something similar happened. But the difference now was that the friend realised which apartment direction it was coming from. They stormed over. Banged on the door. Finally, an old woman in her 80s opened the door. Shock and confusion. The old lady apologised. She didn't have electricity and water. So she had to resort to throwing her urine and feces out the window.

It appears the old lady didn't have family to help take of her. so there she is, in her sunset years, struggling to live with dignity. Perhaps achingly lonely. And sad. 

The story has a somewhat 'happy' ending. The friend called social services who promised to arrange to bring back utilities for the lady.

But I've been thinking and thinking.

In the movie 'I'm thinking of ending things' everything is crazy and surreal and disturbing. A sort of menace is underlying every scene. I couldn't take it any longer so I googled the movie. The story is about loneliness, deep loneliness, and a fragile mental state. You'll have to watch it to understand what it truly means, I suppose. 

I wish I were a better writer so I could encapsulate what the movie is about and how much it scares me.

A a modern horror story.

There's poem in the movie called 'Bone-dog' (apparently it is written by Eva HD).

Read this and ask yourself if you don't feel rattled.

The way it is delivered by the actress is astounding. There's a moment where she looks at the camera while delivering the lines, and it is chilling.

Bone-dog Coming home is terrible whether the dog licks your face or not whether you have a wife or just a wife-shaped loneliness waiting for you coming home is terribly lonely so that you'll think of the oppressive barometric pressure back where you've just come from with fondness, because everything is worse once you're home. You think of the vermin clinging to the grass stalks, long hours on the road, roadside assistance and ice-creams, and the peculiar shapes of certain clouds and silences with longing because you did not want to return coming home is just awful. And the home-style silences and clouds contribute to nothing but the general malaise. Clouds, such as they are, are in fact suspect and made from different material than those you left behind you yourself are cut from different cloudy cloth returned, remaindered, ill-met by moonlight, unhappy to be back, slack in all the wrong spots. Seamy suit of clothes, dishrag-ratty, worn. You return home, moon-landed, foreign the earth's gravitational pull--an effort now redoubled, dragging your shoelaces loose and your shoulders etching deeper the stanza of worry on your forehead. You return home deepened, a parched well linked to tomorrow by a frail strand of... anyway, you sigh into the onslaught of identical days, one might as well, at a time... well, anyway, you are back. The sun goes up and down like a tired whore the weather immobile like a broken limb while you just keep getting older Nothing moves, but the shifting tides of salt in your body, your vision blears, you carry your weather with you the big, blue whale; a skeletal darkness. You come back with an x-ray vision, your eyes have become a hunger, you come home with your mutant gifts to a house of bone everything you see now, all of it: bone.

Little light

I think about death and dying and life and living. The bane of human existence, of being conscious is precisely this. Not the death and dying or the life and living part. But the thinking and feeling of this undeniable truth.

One more thing has started tacking itself to my unoriginal thoughts - the shortness of it all. 

What a fucking shitshow.

Life no longer seems long and endless or whatever I believed it was, previously. Now human beings are fragile, fragile creatures. Like a hummingbird with a little light inside them, flapping its wings for 10 or 20 seconds before suddenly dying, no longer existing, its place taken by dust and light and another hummingbird.

I catch myself thinking these unoriginal thoughts - my unoriginal musings taking me nowhere new, nowhere fun. But in the last few months or maybe weeks, something floated by and brought my boring train of thought to a screeching halt. If life is short and we die and cease to exist before we can fully even comprehend who we are then perhaps our duty is to treat each other well. Or maybe it's just what I must do, regardless of whether it's a duty or obligation. Treat people well. Starting with my family. Treat them better. Hold the light inside everybody preciously. 

Maybe that's the point of existence. Not to create something great. Or to enjoy life. Definitely not to be brave and take on whatever shit life throws at us. Maybe the point of existence is to treat each other like a precious little light. 

UPDATE: Just a day later, this reached my inbox. Here's the Marginalian/Maria Popova with her deep insights on the same topic. 

'You know that the price of life is death, that the price of love is loss, and still you watch the golden afternoon light fall on a face you love, knowing that the light will soon fade, knowing that the loving face too will one day fade to indifference or bone, and you love anyway — because life is transient but possible, because love alone bridges the impossible and the eternal.'

Read up more here - Love Anyway

Sad? Food pics as balm

Feeling a bit down in the dumps. 

Looking at what I ate since the beginning of the year helps me feel a bit better. How come I don't have any pictures of our typical rice-veggies-meat-daal dinners??? 

                    Yesterday's dinner                    

                                                                                           Chicken dumplings and soup

 

Not a big drinker. Bought a case after work. It was okay.

                                                                     This was a 'second dinner' situation.

                                    My fav snack

                                                                                                In my diet era

          Back to regular programming

The achars were so good, alu dum and momos were so-so.

         

            One last hurrah for my skinny self.

                                                                   Pulled back into the world of midnight snacks. 

trudge

it's so scary to think i have to live, exist, persist, etc., for decades....all the while, i'm slowly rotting and inching nearer to being wiped off. before i jump into the question of existence and purpose and everything futile, i just want to add that i am lost and i don't want answers. i don't even want to question. all my sorrows are puny. i am not the first nor the last nor anything consequential. my only wish would be to dim my desire for wanting anything out of life - most of all the desire to find answers to questions that have evaded all of humanity that came before me. my only consolation is the slowly forming trick i've begun to put into action whenever something pinches me - whatever i am doing is temporary, so this disgusting, challenging thing i'm doing right now is more than a figment of my imagination certainly, but it is fleeting in the vast scheme of things. goodbye! i will learn to look at it dispassionately and move on. trudge, trudge, trudge....toward death and decay.

one night in December

think about how life is haunting

how it pricks and pins you 

as you struggle

how haunting it is 

in its beauty

or is it despair

like a yellowed afternoon

that is both soft and scarred

depending on the memory it contains

do you hold on to life

do you thrash to unwrap it claws off you

what do you do

what do you do

you do not know

you do not understand

all you do

all you know

life is haunting

it haunts you

from the moment you experienced your first heartbreak

you discovered your friends gossiping about you

it broke your heart

or maybe you found your mother counting pennies

and it was a peculiar feeling seeing her stack up those coins

the slight air of helplessness permeating the air

something reared its ugly head

when your lover called you names, not of endearment

the sound of a heart breaking, into twos and fours

are you doing well?

Spent 10 mins yesterday crying over the masterpiece that is Jaurim's 25, 21

Something about her voice and the atmosphere of the song always gets me. The words she sings can feel so simple but each one is dripping with meaning and life. This song has stood the test of time. 

This led me to think about other songs that have pulled me in. I've never thought of myself as a music lover. I think that's because I always measure passion by the yardstick of my deep love for books and stories. I love books so much. To give an example, I get teary-eyed when I come across booktubers who are clearly so excited and passionate. There was this one person who was filming his reaction to some book award and he was so nervous as if he was the one up for the award. These days I don't have the best feeling about existing so this experience made me feel glad to be alive.

Back to songs that stir my heart in inexplicable ways

• Sajjan Raj Vaidya - Hataarindai, Bataasindai
• Jerusha Rai - Barud
• ONE OK ROCK- We Are
• Jannabi - For Lovers Who Hesitate
• Epic High Ft. Tuna - No Different

sneaking in Jaurim's 25, 21 again as a reminder

hello, darkness, my old friend

some thoughts fleet by my mind suddenly, sometimes - what does it mean to die? why am I afraid of dying? why is death so interesting to me now? why do we consider death so taboo?

I don't know where it started or how, but I found myself suddenly wanting not to live. Not because I had anything terrible going on in my life. In fact, even during my darkest moments, I never contemplated dying to avoid the pain. But now I am gaining morbid curiosity about death, dying, the effect on those we leave behind when we die.

who will I hurt when I die? my parents, for sure. my siblings, yes. friends, only the closest ones.

but how long will they grieve? I wonder not because I want them to grieve for me for a long time but because I am calculating if my not being alive will only inflict unnecessary and a long drawn out pain for them. I want people to forget me when I am no longer around.

yet, I worry my parents will carry pain shaped like my void around with them, forever and ever until they die. I worry that in seeing my parents, my siblings will then grieve twice as hard as they normally would if my parents were not around with the ghost of my once-existence lingering around them.

for my friends, I hope they forget me soon and build better memories with their loved ones to replace the ones marked 'me'.

I wonder if everyone I think of also thinks of dying. 

how to be happy

 I find myself typing 'how to be happy' - seeking answers on the internet, hoping someone smarter and wiser than me has already found the answer and will teach me.

I don't know what I'm looking for. 

I can't manage my stress levels the way the internet tells me I should.

I hate exercising so that's out.

I think I have a good handle on my negative thoughts and typically practice 'good thoughts' quite well but that's got me nowhere.

So, I am back to square one. I have nothing to do but type 'how to be happy'.

There's no answer. No human has found the answer, it seems.

We were all forced to exist. We make do because that's all we can do. Then we die. Death isn't even a relief according to what some people say. Apparently, our consciousness continues to exist in the ether. And that's somehow worse. Floating and floating. Cursed to be aware of everything for eternity. 

I'm so glad I don't have a child cursed with the burden of existence

trying to clutch at something

there's a truth that is poking at the corners of my brain and my subconsciousness, but it is still raw and doesn't feel fully informed. I wish I could tell you what it is.

new year, old me

 I thought I'd make 10 million resolutions to turn into a new person this new year. But I don't have anything I want to try. I mean I do but I don't really want to make resolutions.

new year, old me is the theme. but if there's something I want to do, it is this - take each day as it comes.

nothing exciting about this but that's the whole purpose of this. I don't want any excitement in my life because with excitement comes stress and anxiety and I want to stop thinking about the future and reduce stress and anger. So, I'll live in the today and stop worrying about tomorrow. 

that's the 2023 me.

things I want to know

The onset of winter has always been the cruellest month for some people I know. As the days quickly grow darker and the gust of wind blows coldly, it is a reminder to me to remain vigilant. Not just to bundle up. Take care of that cold. Return home before the sun vanishes from the sky. But also to check in and see if there's anything I can do. How to grate less on someone's nerves? How to subtly remind someone that May, by contrast to the approaching cold, is the doorway to the warm summer days that has always acted as a balm to me? That this long, wintry tussle with the demons is a fight worth winning to usher in the next year?

Conscious uncoupling

So I learned something new today. 

This term - Conscious uncoupling - was not coined by Gwyneth Paltrow. Rather, it was Katherine Woodward Thomas who introduced this phrase in 2009 as a better alternative to a messy divorce.

I think this conscious uncoupling can apply to any long term relationship - married or unmarried. 

But I wonder if only one person can be party to this? 

My twist on this phrase is the slow, untangling one needs to do in order to step away from a relationship that has two people intertwined emotionally, physically, socially, financially.

My relationship ended over two years ago. The financial detachment was pretty quick because we were both in a foreign country and didn't have a chance to merge our finances like we did back home. 

The physical separation was of course aided by covid and the ensuing lockdown rules. That made it pretty easy for me to sit in my room and stew in the marinade of my anger, sadness, memories, confusion, etc.

The emotional dissolution has been a pretty crazy ride as I'm certain anyone can guess. I am actually doing great, except when I'm not. Two years down the line and you may still catch me feeling a bit cuckoo over everything and nothing.

I realised I still pray to the god his family introduced me to. Little male characters in anime remind me of his little brother who was tiny when I first met him. Some older woman on TikTok resembles his mother, I think. And the biggest thing that makes me stop in shock is how i feel when I come across his cousins' social media posts/stories and wonder why they didn't bring him along for their fun times. He used to include them in all his activities back home. Are they not taking him along for their fun nights out on town and stuff? I feel a bit of resentment. Then I catch myself. And I am like WTFFF. Should I be caring to this extent?

That's what I mean - is it conscious uncoupling if only one person is actively trying to disentangle themselves slowly?

I came across this documentary about minimalism on Netflix and there was a person there who spoke about how they felt trapped when they got a promotion and wondered if that's what their entire life was going to be like. There was instant recognition there because that's what I felt towards the end of my relationship and when I was battling with myself about staying or leaving. Staying for the familiarity or leaving because I love myself. I am so glad 2020 me took the big decision to be brave and chose myself. 

So, while I am still a bit raw emotionally, I am very happy where I am today.

Just wondering how long till I see the end of this one person conscious uncoupling thing?

A fine, fucking Sunday - thank you BTS!

 I love Bangtan so much.

The end of the epic 4-day PTD in Las Vegas! And what a fucking finish to a legendary moment in life.

Fav chaotic duo

 

Everything felt different somehow in the last show.

Black Swan seemed to have new choreo. 

JK seemed even more energetic than his usual self if that's possible.

Tae was so jumpy and happy. 

Just model Tae walking the runway lol

Jimin and JK were cutely running around photobombing the members during Life Goes On. hehe.

Suga inundated with hundreds of 'Yoongi, marry me' posters hahahah. And he was like there are many drive-through wedding places in Las Vegas hahahaha

hahaha

Speaking of posters - there were many witty and cute ones. 

I loved what Hobi was wearing here. (Can't seem to find a full body pic right now)

I was so proud of JK and Hobi's English speeches. They have become so fluent in the language. This motivates me immensely to learn Korean. The Bangtan Academy classes begin in May - I'm so excited!!!!

And Hobi took a moment out of his speech time to thank Jin for still delivering a world class performance despite his injury so that bts on stage looked like the cohesive team they are. I believe Jin seemed really shy and a bit overwhelmed at this praise from his dance leader. During his own speech, Jin expressed regret that he hurt himself which hindered the quality of performance BTS is known for and he apologised to his band members. Tae was having none of that and immediately stood up and went up to Jin to say NO, you are not a burden to us, okay!!! 😭

Oh the fuzzy warm feelings don't stop there. Joon initiated hugs with his members. Now that makes me proud idk why lol. When he stepped to share his final thoughts, JK went 'our boss' hehehhehehehe.

my fav duo ever 

He was also in a nostalgic mood as he went all the way back to the AHL days when they were cleaning hotels and asking people to come to their concert.

Joon gave a full bow to army. And LAB dance team returned the bow to Bangtan.

THE ENDING WAS LEGENDARY. I mean Joon had been hinting something was coming because he kept saying stay with us till the end. BUT THAT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!!

When I heard the heard the words 'WE ARE BULLETPROOF' and saw the June 10th date, I literally flopped my legs and squealed loudly and sat up on my bed. hahahaha....After I calmed down, I found my own instinctive reaction so hilarious. 

I am so happy. Thank you, BTS for always colouring my life with joy. I will keep praying for only the best things for you.

BTS IS COMING!!

Why I don't want kids

There's one thing I've been increasingly certain of over the past couple of years. I don't want kids of my own. 

I have always liked children. I think they are adorable lil humans. And I actually think I'd be a good parent. When I was younger, a family of my own obviously meant children - either one or two girls. I even had names figured out. 

But now all that desire is slowly vanishing to be replaced with apathy.

It's nothing to do with currently being single and not having a romantic partner. I was in a long term relationship for a decade. Like most young people, starting a family was always a plan but a very distant one. Somehow, we always had plenty of good reasons to not consider that seriously - not ready for kids, not mature enough, no financial stability. Both of us were definitely not ready to step into the next stage of adulthood. 

But I saw plenty of people around me, in the same situation, having kids and while being parents is challenging, they seemed to be doing okay for the most part. 

Anyway, I'm just glad I am not a parent at this time. I will continue to love children. I will also be glad that life brought me here to this stage in my life where I am child free and happy about it.

My reasons - which are in no particular order - are as follows.

1. I'm lazy and don't want to bother with the daily task of taking care of any kids.
2. I'm against the idea of feeling vulnerable. Little humans we birth are walking about in the world - unprotected, open to scary incidents. My heart cannot take this emotional upheaval.
3. The cost of raising children is high. It's not fair for kids to see their parents struggle financially, I think.
4. The idea of pregnancy has started to be very unappealing. I didn't have any opinion about it before because I just accepted that it's something women have to go through if they want children but now I'm decidedly turning my back against nine whole months of aches and what-not. Just very unfair of god or whoever designed our fragile human bodies.
5. The mother is always going to be the primary caregiver. Am I up for the biggest, most enduring role of my life? No, I am not.

None of us chose to be born. I'm sure a lot of us love that we are alive and that we get to experience this revolutionary act of choosing to live every single day. But I'm equally sure many of us would rather not exist. And then there's this daunting, inevitability of old age and illness which is frankly scarier than death. Do I want to be responsible for a human being who has to experience these two scary things? Thankfully, not everyone is destined to suffer a painful decline into ageing and then death.

But because life is long, I have left open the minuscule possibility of me changing my mind. I hope I do not. But in case I do, then there's always adoption. Because I sure as heck will not be birthing any human. I am in my mid 30s and I'm already very tired and achy. I refuse to take on any physical challenges.

Enjoy this imperfect picture of perfect tulips, please.

A Small Place

Wrote this review in December 2020

As I was reading Jamaica Kincaid’s creative no-fiction essay/book ‘A Small Place’, I found myself thoroughly relishing it. I loved the idea of this voice addressing tourists, specifically white and western, and kind of holding them up by their breeches as she ticked off a million reasons why they need to pay attention, not just money, to the land they have set foot in.

I am not an essay/book critic. In fact, I really do not know how to sensibly critique any piece of work. So I will just stick to what I remember of the essay and my personal feelings.

 

I read ‘A Small Place’ in December 2020. Not a lot of time has gone by since, yet I do not remember most details from it. (Should I chuck it to everything else fighting for their share of my attention economy?) What I do recall is coming away thinking how cool and interesting this essay was. And it now has a place in my favourite reads list.

 

Ms Kincaid threw in a bunch of words, some volatile emotions, a bunch of historical facts, and a generous heap of social commentary to create this exquisite work.

 

To give a gist of the subject matter, it is centred on tourism in the island of Antigua in the Caribbean region. Formerly a British colonial land, the small island and its inhabitants are still experiencing lingering jolts of the British yoke even after all these years.

 

She has dealt a strong bittersweet, melancholic stroke to this piece. 

 

The acerbic tone was really enjoyable. She doesn’t mince words when it comes to bashing the British, the tourists, and even the island natives. It is angry, it is cutting, and it is definitely thought-provoking. I imagine every reader will feel the pervasive mood of anger and bitterness from the first to the final page.

 

Immediately, I connected it to modern day tourism and the Instagram hashtag holidays. I don’t know what Antigua looks like but I visualise blue waters, white grainy sands and palm trees. 

 

Our lives are intertwined so firmly with social media that words like ‘beach holidays’, ‘sand, ‘hotels, ‘tourism’, etc., instantly take me to the image I described above. And who would be the humans in those pictures but the white people!

 

If I remember correctly, the writer describes the thoughts of the tourists towards the locals and vice versa. Each looks down at the other. But the locals, who also work at the hotels, have to hide their thoughts behind gratitude and politeness reserved for moneyed guests. 

 

Ms Kincaid’s anger is aimed at the hundreds of years of British colonial rule and its lasting impact over the people it once ruled. It is pointed at the corruption that is rife in Antigua and the government which seems hopeless. It is aimed at the tourists who live tedious, ordinary, dull lives back home but have the temerity to spend a little bit of money (and gain a lot of value for that amount) at a lovely beachside resort in an exotic part of the world. These tourists don’t care to know what is going on beyond their resort walls. They come for a holiday but they stay inside these ‘civilised’ spaces. All they are concerned about is their hotel pools, taking in some sunshine, and walking by the beaches.

 

The corruption is rampant in Antigua. Anything is available for those who have money. Like the universal totem of corruption, the rich get richer while the poor remain downtrodden. There’s a library she talks about which is almost like the symbol of the endemic corruption. It’s been years since there was talk of fixing and restoring the library to its former glory but it remains dilapidated to the day she wrote this piece.

 

It gives an overarching view of the Antigua then. I found out this essay was published, in 1988, one year after I was born. I don’t suppose they’ve managed to root out corruption there in the last 33 years.

 

But reading this felt sort of comforting. She has written this with so much passion. There is a sense of an animal sniping at a person’s heels. It has that energy. I wish I could write like that. I also appreciated learning about Antigua’s history and reading about the powerful, crooked local people there.

 

It is 2021. We cannot escape dialogues on race, ethnicity, slavery, colonialism, caste, capitalism, etc. Our world has shrunken and broadened almost concurrently. So reading essays/books like this presents us with a worldview that feels familiar (corruption, poverty) and foreign (slavery, white colonialism) at the same time.

 

I’m also guilty of very much enjoying, especially, the literary clobbering she doled out to the entitled white tourists (Oops).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FUCK YOU.......but I still love you very much, 25/21

I'm absolutely livid at that last bit they showed at that ep finale!!! Why the fuck would you rub salt on my wound??? I'm never recovering from this betrayal ever. All that fan theories I read and held on to with the biggest hopes have been dashed.. ARGHHHHHHH I'm so miserable...

DEEP BREATHSSS

There was a big moment that stood out to me from ep 16 (apart from that nasty bit at the very end)...The scene in between the episode in the tunnel where they thrash out their issues. It felt so real and emotional I almost forgot I was watching a show. I've never ever felt that the stuff I was watching was actually being played out in real life. It was really a strange feeling to lose it for a few seconds. I truly believed in that moment where they were breaking up and then Heedo asks Yijin if he ever loved her and he is incredulous and angry at the question. Then as she leaves, he calls out to her twice. That entire scene was brilliant.

I don't want to make this all about the fucking finale but I do want to say that despite my deep anger and desire to curse the writer/director this very moment, I think they are amazing and I loved this show with all my heart. After a slew of uninspiring, boring shows that I have been watching recently, this one was excellent and jam packed with all that makes a drama beautiful, loved and enduring.

Kim Taeri, I have loved you ever since I watched Little Forest and The Handmaiden. Nam Joohyuk, I thought you were just eye-candy and I'm sorry I didn't respect your talent apart from enjoying your work in Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Soo. 

Now I think you both are the greatest thing since sliced bread. The characters of Na Heedo and Baek Yijin are tailor made for you. 

I love all the other characters - Go Yurim, Moon Jiwoong, Ji Seungwan.  I love the fan/rival/friend relationship between Heedo and Yurim. I love the friendship of Jiwoong and Seungwan. I loved how Heedo's mother was such a career woman. I loved Yijin's mom being so openly and deeply in love with her husband. 

The writer/s did an amazing job taking us back to the time of the South Korean financial crisis and showing us how it impacted the people there. There's a lot to unpack here about this but I will leave it to people who know about this better and can articulate it.

I can't write anymore because my heart hurts and I'm angry about the ending. But let me put on my mature and subjective hat on for this sentence and admit that the story did not NOT make sense. Not every love story gets a happy ending and that's okay.  I just have never wished so hard for a Korean drama to be cliche. I will never ever take that for granted now. 

Let me go back to crying and mending my broken heart.