Archive of Our Own

AGE FOUR TO SIX

Heejin’s parents enroll her at the local Catholic private school to strengthen her faith and to cultivate her sense of religion, belonging, and morality. There, Heejin learns about the principles of Catholicism, sings songs about God and the Bible, with cute and memorable choreography to go with it. Every Friday she attends church with her schoolmates and celebrates the paschal mystery of Christ. It doesn’t mean much to her—all that matters to her is that her friends would sit next to her so that they could occupy each other during the mundane hour. (It isn’t until she is in second grade does she see the importance of paying attention during mass. And plus, the priest gives out prizes for students who could answer his questions about the gospel during his homily.)

(Scarily like Pavlov’s Dogs study, the conditioning it takes to be a good practicing Catholic is the gradual relationship between behavior and reward. Starting young, it’s dollar bills for being an active participant. Getting older, it’s avoiding eternal damnation.)

The real fun is the hour before recess where she watches Veggie Tales with Hyunjin and they sing along to the theme song and watch vegetables act out the scriptures found in the Bible.

The first time she meets Hyunjin, Heejin is embarking on her first year of schooling and being away from her mother’s care. At pre-school, Hyunjin is the person to wipe her tears away when her mother turns away from her to leave. Hyunjin’s mother had already dropped her off and assured her that she would be back to get her. Even as a child, Hyunjin had been calm and had an incredible sense of individuality, so, when her mother leaves, she doesn’t feel the fear of abandonment or the scary threat of being away from her. Beside her, however, it is clear that the girl next to her is very much attached to her mother. With tears rolling down her cheeks, Hyunjin doesn’t like how her lips are dragged down by her sadness or how snot is starting to run. In the innocence of being young and selflessly concerned about others, Hyunjin tugs at the girl’s shirt to get her attention.

“Don’t cry; your momma’s not leaving you. She’ll come back. Like mine will.”

Her little hands wipe away at the wet tear tracks on the girl’s cheeks and uses the bottom of her shirt to clean the snot away.

Before they walk to the teacher that was welcoming students in, wordlessly, Heejin grasps for Hyunjin’s hand as if it were her anchor to keep her from crying again.

Hyunjin doesn’t question it, doesn’t take her hand away from her.

It’s comforting, and at four, it’s what they need to feel less alone.

And her mom does come back.

From there, Heejin starts trusting Hyunjin as if she were her lifeline.

Since then, Heejin has never been alone. Hyunjin has been following her through her school days, playing with her on the swings, playing House with her (Heejin would be the mother, Hyunjin would alternate between the father or the dog, depending on who else would play with them), coloring in the pages of coloring books with her (Heejin liked colored pencils so Hyunjin would use the dull crayons), eating lunch with her (where they would trade their snacks with each other), and working on reading their little books together.

One of the times Hyunjin is assigned to sit next to her in kindergarten, she only then notices the dot by Heejin’s eyes and on her cheek. (Back at pre-school, there was so much to be fascinated and distracted by. The moles on her friend’s face never made itself obvious until her wonder had died down.) Grazing her cheek with the pad of her thumb to wipe away the black dot, Heejin is confused as to why her classmate was rubbing at her cheek.

“What are you doing?”

“You have stuff on your cheek. It’s not coming off though.”

When Hyunjin licks her thumb and proceeds with cleaning her friend’s cheek, Heejin tilts her head away to avoid her grooming.

“They won’t come off! Momma said that I was born with these!”

“Oh! Like the one I have!”

And true to her word, there at the corner of Hyunjin’s eye, is a birthmark.

“They match!”

Before they could rattle off into more conversation, the teacher calls for clean-up time and the two (and their table mates) scramble to clear off their desks the quickest to achieve table points. (At the end of the week, whichever table had the most points had the prize of reaching into the Treasure Box for little goodies or candies. Heejin initially hadn’t been so competitive, but, Hyunjin had and it seemed that that trait had rubbed off on her. It works out for them because their group mates are as equally well-behaved as they are speedy to heed to their teacher’s directions. Their table has been the consecutive winner for the month.)

~

AGE SEVEN

She receives the sacrament of Holy Communion in second grade and it’s the first time she sees Jesus’ sacrifice as the epitome of selflessness and holiness. From there, she grows in Catholicism. She attends mass with her school on Friday’s, goes again on Sunday’s with her family, regularly practices Reconciliation and asks for penance, and strictly lives by her faith.

(All of the while, Hyunjin is there with her. Dressed in a pretty white dress like she is for Holy Communion, her seatmate during mass (it was fun during the Our Father—Hyunjin and Heejin would play a game of who could squeeze the tightest and then the pair would share handshakes with others with small crescents on their hands from their fingernails that dug into their skin), and her partner for reading Scripture aloud when it came time for her class to lead the mass with the priest and deacon.)

Beside Heejin, her parents are enthused that their daughter is becoming just as consumed by Catholicism as they were. Her mother would read the readings of the day to her every night while she tucked her into bed and her father would teach her psalms and songs that the congregation would sing during mass.

Soon enough, at the core of her being, God is there. Indubitably.

~

AGE ELEVEN

In sixth grade, Hyunjin invites Heejin over for a sleepover.

Mistaking Hyunjin’s sister’s room as her friend’s, she barges into Hyunjin’s older sister kissing her girl friend on her bed. (Or at least, that was how she introduced her to Heejin. Heejin knows she would never kiss her friends. Hyunjin is a girl after all. And plus, girls kissing girls is wrong. Maybe Hansol, but, he is always awfully awkward around her and a mess of long limbs unproportionate to his height.)

It’s the first time Heejin sees gay people in her life. Sure, she had known of people like that, knows how the church frowns upon them. She comes to paint quite the image of them. Unworthy of the sanctity of marriage and active destroyers in the tradition of family and living, she deemed that people like that were people to be avoided.

Once finding Hyunjin’s room, Heejin sits on her friend’s bed and smooths out the wrinkles at the foot of it, “I didn’t know that- that your sister was a lesbian.”

Hyunjin, who is putting away the clothes that was on her bed, shrugs.

“I didn’t think I needed to tell you. And plus, she’s bi.”

(Even more grey was the idea of bisexualism. All Heejin knew was that being so was unnatural.)

“Do you think you are? Gay?”

Hyunjin shrugs again, “I don’t think I am, but, I don’t know.”

(A lie. She thinks she is.)

Heejin lies down on Hyunjin’s bed and stares at the popcorn ceiling, “You better not be; I don’t think I could be friends with one!”

It sounds like a joke, what with how Heejin laughs after saying it, but, they both know there is truth in her admission.

(It terrifies Hyunjin because she doesn’t want to lose Heejin. Sometimes she would find her breathtakingly pretty and no matter how much she tried to ignore it, she has had dreams that implied that they could be more than friends. She wakes up in bliss, thinking that maybe they could work. But now, in this moment, Hyunjin feels in her heart that Heejin would rather the world ending before even considering her in such a way.)

(Who could blame Heejin for being raised by her faith and her active participation in church? She could only think of what she knows.)

~

AGE FOURTEEN

Stubbornly, or if Chaewon's speaking, stupidly, Hyunjin finds herself celebrating her tenth friendaversary with Heejin.

Fourteen and childishly in love Heejin, Hyunjin would rather spend her time with the girl instead of telling her the truth and having Heejin think she was disgusting. (She doesn’t understand how being around her kills her self-esteem. Chaewon sees it, but, she could only do so much.)

In ninth grade, after Hyunjin tells Heejin about her sister’s fourth year anniversary with her girlfriend, Heejin has more structured and pointed views on gay people.

“Doesn’t it disgust you? Gay people?”

Hyunjin furrows her eyebrows. She could never be disgusted by her sister and her happiness. By love.

“No? They’re in love and they make each other happy.”

“No, they’re dykes and meaningless to the world.”

“Heekkie, don’t talk about them like that. Like my sister, she’s good. She listens to my mom, she does what is right, and she’s not meaningless.”

“I don’t get how you’re okay with it. What your sister does is nasty and I hate it.”

Hyunjin’s patience and tolerance to getting angry is normally like a snail moving towards its next destination, but, when it concerned the ones she loves, she is much like a ticking time bomb. Heejin is no exception to staying safe from what comes.

“I can’t be around you if you’re going to talk like this, Heejin! That’s my family you’re talking shit about and I won’t tolerate it! She doesn’t deserve it!”

It only escalates. A girl with her beliefs and a girl with filial piety come to meet the face of conflict.

“You know I’m right, Hyunjin! The Bible said that it’s an abomination for women to lie with another! It’s wrong, Hyunjin!”

“The Bible has said a lot of bullshit, Heejin. That doesn’t mean it’s right!”

The rising anger reaches its ceiling and it blows over.

(It’s not easy being confronted by the idea that the core of her belief and behavior could be wrong. It’s not easy being stuck between her best friend and her sense of identity.)

“Why would my parents lie to me then? What does my faith get out of lying to me? Nothing! They have nothing to gain!”

“Then what do I have to gain if I were to tell you that I was? All I can think of is what I’m losing. Do you think it’s fun for me to torture myself with doubt and repression? For me to have actually come close to hating myself?”

“You- you’re gay?”

The way Heejin looks at her unnerves her. The spite that was in her eyes dies. Instead, concern takes its place. Hearing those words from Heejin makes everything feel more real. Hyunjin can feel how her heart pounds against her chest and how it echoes through her ears. She realizes that her hands are curled into fists, nails digging into her palm to channel the stress she feels knotting up anywhere else. Her stomach is on the floor and Hyunjin wasn’t ready to confront this yet—she only barely got to accepting herself.

She feels like she might throw up.

Looking at Heejin, Hyunjin thinks about lying and proposing hypotheticals. The coward’s way out looked pretty, but, Hyunjin couldn’t lie—not to Heejin. She knows her too well to see anything but the truth. (And plus, Hyunjin owes it to herself to tell the truth. Her sister has been telling her daily that she’s more than what she thinks, that she deserves more than what she thinks she should. And Hyunjin thinks she deserves this—to be true to herself in front of the person she wanted to be with most.)

It’s as if her tongue is stuck in knots, the projection of her voice unwilling to climb the laborious way up her throat. Croaking and quiet and absolutely suffocating in anxiety, Hyunjin barely gets her answer out.

“Yes. I am.”

Heejin is silent. She takes a deep breath to center herself.

She had been taught that homosexuality was bad and that people who were should be avoided, but, this was Hyunjin. She’s the girl who stuck everything out with her. She defended her from the boy that would tease Heejin by taking away her juice box during lunch time when she was younger, watched all of the dumb princess movies with her that no one ever cared for, stayed awake with her on the phone when Heejin watched a scary movie with Hansol on her first date with him. Hyunjin wasn’t bad. She didn’t need to be taught that; she had learned that all on her own. And she didn’t want to avoid her. If anything, she wanted to keep her in her life.

(Heejin doesn’t want to choose between Hyunjin and God. Losing either terrified her.)

Taking a timid step towards Hyunjin, the hand that she offers is equally as shy.

Hyunjin hadn’t been expecting the olive branch Heejin extends.

“If you think you’ll lose me, I need to do a better job at showing you that you won’t. I’m sorry that I said all of those things, but, I can’t help what I believe and what I’ve been taught. And I’m sorry that I’m so confused because all of my life I’ve been taught this one thing, and now, it’s the first time for me to see that it’s wrong and I don’t- I’m scared of accepting the reality that everything I know is wrong.”

Holding the hand that was offered to her like an anchor, it’s reflective how the two rely on each other to find comfort and to stay grounded amidst the fear.

Heejin pulls her friend into a hug and everything feels okay.

(It’s the calm before the storm.)

~

Throughout the year, Heejin spends copious hours at Hyunjin’s house. Whether it be studying or hanging out, with her time she spends there, Heejin also becomes closer to Hyunjin’s sister and her girlfriend.

(At first, she was too unnerved to see her as more than a homosexual. Now, she sees that Sooyoung is selflessly caring and protective of Hyunjin, dedicated to fulfilling their mother’s expectations, and a loving and attentive girlfriend to Jinsol.)

The longest relationship Heejin knew of outside of her parents and her friends’ parents, Heejin comes to see that Sooyoung and Jinsol are it. Together since their second year of high school, the two are now sophomores in college and while four years doesn’t seem like a lot, her peers could barely stay together for a month. There has to be testament in their commitment.

Slowly, Heejin begins to learn that being gay isn’t bad, that sexuality is uncontrollable and natural.

She feels herself become more okay with accepting that and accepting her faith all of the same.

(Feelings, as strong as they are, can never be concrete. Perception and feeling are haze-inducing pills to take.)

Still, she goes to church every Sunday with her family, but, every Saturday, she spends the time with Hyunjin’s family and Jinsol. (Often, Jinsol would bring along her little sister who adored Sooyoung. Then, her little sister would bring along her friend who was attached to her the way Heejin is with Hyunjin. Hyejoo, coming along with Chaewon, brings her Nintendo Switch, and often, the six would alternate their turns playing Super Smash Bros, Mario Kart, or Overcooked. When Heejin catches Sooyoung giving Jinsol a kiss after winning the prix in Mario Kart, she doesn’t find herself disgusted the way she was three years ago. In fact, she thinks it’s quite cute to see how big Jinsol smiles after it.)

So, when Heejin starts feeling a flurry of nerves when Hyunjin tells her she’s pretty for no reason at all, Heejin isn’t terrified at the thought of being gay.

(And Hyunjin, she wasn’t discreet nor obvious about her feelings for Heejin. However she was around her was who she was and Hyunjin caring for her and wiping the excess sauce from her lips away is normal. Hyunjin making her laugh when she is feeling down and holding her when she cries later on is normal. Hyunjin kissing her cheek to cheer her up is normal. And the way her heart starts beating for Heejin feels normal. Liking Heejin, Hyunjin thinks, without the circumstances, is the greatest feeling she could ever feel. The circumstances, frankly, are terrifying. Carefully treading the lines of falling for her best friend, liking a girl who was in conflict with her tightly-held religion, and liking her even if she knew Heejin could very well treat her like a stranger after knowing so is a hazardous line to travel.

(Hyunjin doesn’t want to be a stranger to Heejin. She couldn’t bear to watch the person closest to her mind her as if was just a passing fad. Because Heejin is anything but that to her. She feels a lot like the one thing Hyunjin wants permanent.)

(But, she can’t help liking her. If she could, she would have stopped all of those years ago.)

~

It’s April and it’s raining cats and dogs. Hyunjin normally waits for her parents to pick her up, but, the condition had been so bad that Heejin begged her mother to call Hyunjin’s to let her know that they would be taking her home.

When Heejin stares out of the car window coming home (with her pinky finger linked with Hyunjin’s), she remembers how the two used to play in the rain, unafraid of getting sick.

It had been raining enough for water to flood the drain outside in Hyunjin’s backyard. In the eyes of six-year-olds, it’s a glorified massive puddle to jump into. With Hyunjin’s mother’s permission, the two step out barefoot to have their fun in the water.

Heejin doesn’t remember much, but, she knows that she was happy, that seeing Hyunjin’s toothy smile was the best part of jumping around in the water.

“Remember when your mom let us go outside to jump in water when we were younger?”

“And you got sick and your mom grounded you from coming over for two weeks?”

The two laugh fondly at the memory. Heejin had gotten a mild cold the next day, but, still she compromises at the fair trade off. (And even though not hanging out with Hyunjin after school put a damper to her mood for the next two weeks, being able to share the memory with her friend is enough.)

This time around, feeling like dignified fourteen-year-olds, the pair don’t frolic about in puddles. (Mostly because water doesn’t flood enough in Heejin’s backyard for a small pool to form). Instead, the two are resting in Heejin’s room, watching some teen rom-com. It’s too cheesy for Hyunjin’s liking, but, Heejin loves the fantasy of it. Turning her head that was propped on her hands that supported the back of it, Hyunjin focuses her attention to the girl with stars in her eyes.

“Have you had your first kiss?”

Realizing Hyunjin’s attention was on her, Heejin tears her eyes away from the screen.

“I’d have told you if I got my first kiss.”

“Hansol didn’t kiss you?”

Heejin shrugs nonchalantly, “I didn’t want to kiss him.”

“Is that why he broke up with you?”

(Heejin hadn’t told Hyunjin why when it had happened and she never got around to explaining later—Hansol just wasn’t worth their time.)

“I think so. He said that it was him and not me, but, I heard from his friends that he got bored.”

Hyunjin frowns. Getting bored of Heejin is one of the things Hyunjin could never fathom. That girl is full of wonder and stories and amusement. (Hansol just didn’t appreciate her the way Hyunjin does. But then again, there’s not many people out there that appreciate her the way she does.)

“You’re not boring though? I think you’re plenty of fun.”

Heejin shrugs and casts her eyes back to the screen.

“I guess there’s more definitions for fun than just one.”

(Heejin would never say it, but, she worries incessantly if she truly is boring.)

(Fourteen is such a fragile age that isn’t treated with the gentleness it deserves.)

Unsatisfied with her friend’s dismissal, Hyunjin unravels her arms to tug at Heejin’s shirt. Annoying her until she got her attention, Hyunjin focuses her pretty and attentive eyes to her.

“It doesn’t matter whatever the definitions that exist. What matters is that he didn’t deserve to take your first kiss if he didn’t appreciate you. It’s supposed to be with someone special and someone you trust—someone who you know will keep you safe after.”

With the lights off, the main characters of the movie kissing each other in the rain at the end of the football game after an iconic one-liner, and with how Hyunjin’s look at her, Heejin’s heart thrums in her chest and she doesn’t have the will to stop the words that come from her.

(Heejin didn’t have to think twice about it. Hyunjin appreciated, respected, and cherished her enough for Heejin to feel valued and special.)

“S- someone like you?”

(Heejin doesn’t know when she started liking Hyunjin, but, she realizes she likes her during their first homecoming dance. Hyunjin asks her to dance with her when Heejin sees that Hansol had asked some girl from another grade to dance with him. While everyone danced with their toes far apart from each other, the two danced close enough for Heejin to smell the faint scent of the vanilla perfume Hyunjin had put on. The Holy Spirit, as it seems for them, slimmed down because the supervising teachers don’t tell them to make space for it. (Little did they know.) All Heejin remembers is thinking about how pretty she looks, even with how dim the lights are. She remembers how sweaty her hands are when she wraps her arms around Hyunjin’s neck.

It’s the thundering thump of her heart that tells her.

If only Fifth Grade Heejin could see her now. Heejin thinks Past Her would be having an existential crisis had Heejin not learned to accept the idea of being gay.)

(If only Present Heejin could see and accept how her heart wrestles at the fight between herself and her religion. Ignorance could only grasp at loose strands for so long.)

Hyunjin isn’t normally nervous around Heejin—she had gotten over that in eighth grade. Sometimes, Heejin had her moments where she could make her blush, but, Hyunjin became accustomed to how she gets around her friend.

This is one of those moments where her heart goes haywire and her mind gets tossed into a mess of nerves and scrambled words. Hyunjin feels something great on the horizon, like any of the words she can choose to say will determine the outcome of a larger future. Her heart is knocking at her chest and adrenaline starts rushing through her veins. Hyunjin thinks that this could be it for her—for them.

“Exactly- exactly someone like me.”

At this point, their faces are already edging closer and closer. Their noses are proximate enough for Hyunjin to feel the whistle of air that blows through Heejin’s. Scared still, Hyunjin’s hands are iced to the bed, grasping at the blankets, trying to find anything to anchor her to the corporeal world. It isn’t until Heejin’s hands come to hold hers to relax hers does Hyunjin feel her chest exhaling—she didn’t even know she had stopped breathing.

“You’re special to me. And I trust you. With everything in me.”

“Are you sure you want me as your first kiss?”

(It would leave her absolutely distraught if Heejin kisses her and regrets it after. Hyunjin thinks that that would shatter any resolve she had left.)

But, it doesn’t seem like Heejin would regret it because the girl’s other hand runs through Hyunjin’s hair.

(That always calmed her down.)

“I don’t want it to be anyone else, Hyunjin. I want it to be you.”

And so, with the air around them pulling them into intimacy, under the hazy influence of falling in love on the silver screen, they press their lips together and it’s awkward and short. It’s timid and full of nerves. But, it’s brimming with care and affection. Heejin kisses her again and it’s a little longer—not as messy—their lips coming together again to find the right rhythm.

(Heejin thinks she needs to work on her stamina and increasing her lungs’ capacity because she gets out of breath much sooner than she would like.)

Pulling away, Hyunjin giggles and Heejin knows that it’s not ill-intentioned. Instead, it feels like playing in the rain, blowing the furs of dandelions away to carry their wishes, picking at grass blades to trace words on Hyunjin’s skin with them. Hyunjin pulls her into her arms and buries her face into her neck and it feels safe in her arms, like nothing could ever pop their bubble of comfort and security.

But, that doesn’t make feelings concrete because Heejin’s mother pulls at her door and if Heejin hadn’t just spent the last minute kissing Hyunjin, she wouldn’t have abruptly pushed Hyunjin away, wouldn’t feel a creeping shame plaguing her.

“Heejin, it’s so dark in your room! How can you see anything?”

(It reassures her like no other to know that her mother didn’t catch Hyunjin snuggling into her. Still, there is a lingering feeling of something bad tainting her mood.)

“Um- we were watching a movie so we didn’t need them on! I’m all about saving energy!”

A little weirded out, her mother frowns at her before telling the two that dinner is ready downstairs.

Hyunjin thinks that while she shared her first kiss with someone special, someone she trusted, she can’t help but to think that Heejin won’t stay to keep her safe.

(Hyunjin knows the tight grasp fear has on her.)

(Hyunjin never said it, and probably never will, but, her heart needs safekeeping too.)

She expects to hear the worst, to have Heejin push her away. But, it’s the exact opposite. The girl opens her arms and her eyes are kind.

(She wants to keep her safe.)

“I’m sorry I pushed you away like that. My mom just scared me.”

“She has caught us snuggling before? We’ve always snuggled each other to sleep.”

“Yeah she’s caught us snuggling before, but, never did we kiss before snuggling. And, I guess, a part of me is still adjusting because I felt so...scared in that moment. For me, for you. For us. I don’t want them to separate us. Because they will. If they knew, Hyunjin, if they knew I liked you, I don’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Hyunjin had only ever dreamt of Heejin saying the words that would tell her that her heart reciprocated hers. It feels a lot like a nightmare when Heejin says them now. The circumstances warp her dream into a grim and terrible nightmare called reality and Hyunjin wishes she could bathe in how good it feels to know Heejin liked her back, but, the fear of her being taken away from her, simply because of how they felt, is enough to shock her back to reality.

“We’ll just have to be more careful next time, Hyunjin.”

The idea of a “next time” is charming. Kissing Heejin for a next time is the thought that Hyunjin falls asleep to, and with Heejin’s arms around her, everything feels as it should.

~

For the next two months during their sleepovers, Hyunjin falls asleep with the taste of Heejin’s chapstick on her tongue and the warm satisfaction of having the girl she likes holding her to sleep.

Dreams could never compare to how good it feels to have Heejin in real life. Hyunjin thinks nothing could ever compare to how comforting it is to have her.

But, the realities of life don’t shield her away from the harsh tragedies of truth the way dreams do. The shrouding glow of their hazy dream is shattered in the span of thirty minutes.

(The storm arrives after the calm and the destruction is absolutely devastating.)

The first night of summer break, it starts with Hyunjin going home with Heejin to sleepover and it moves to the pair retiring to Heejin’s room to watch a television show (which just turns into kissing in between the advertisements—and then kissing during the episode). There isn’t necessarily a label tying them together, but, there was no doubt that they were the only ones on each other’s minds.

(Something about the official nature of calling Hyunjin her girlfriend ravages at Heejin, terrifies her. The words of Leviticus ruminate around in her mind every time when Hyunjin falls asleep for the night, “If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act.”

And Heejin wants to be good—doesn’t want to sin or lie, doesn’t want to face the fury of damnation. The last time she went to confession, she lied to the priest when she confessed and hid Hyunjin like a dirty secret. How could she face her greatest fear while confessing to the man who is supposed to be talking with the power of God in him? She couldn’t even accept herself, why would God?

As much as she didn’t want to believe it—didn’t want to accept it—so much of her heart turned black at the presence of the truth. She was, is, an abomination. And facing the truth that some of the greatest people she knew were purposely living a life of sin, of being gay, toyed with her and put her into the winding tangled mess of conflict.

Because Sooyoung is so compassionate, Jinsol is equally caring, and Hyunjin is everything good and beautiful about life. But, at the same time, for intentionally committing to the unnatural lifestyle that they have, an overwhelming part of her remembers the Word of the Bible.

Heejin wants to be good.

(She wants to be okay and to accept who she was, but, the weight of the world holds her back.)

Splintered by the way she feels and her faith, all Heejin wants to do is curl into herself and hide away from the world. Running away wouldn’t solve her problems, but, certainly, they wouldn’t be keeping her awake at night. Sometimes, it feels like she can escape when she’s with Hyunjin. Yet, as soon as the girl is lulled to sleep by Heejin’s steady breathing, the other girl can’t help the turmoil that knots within her.

If she didn’t have to choose—if she could comfortably be herself and have her faith—Heejin thinks that she would be the happiest she could ever imagine being. She aches for the day when she learns to loves herself again.)

(That was another difference between Fifth Grade Heejin and Ninth Grade Heejin. Fifth Grade Heejin actually loved herself.)

Kissing Hyunjin is nice. It’s warm and comfortable and she makes her feel safe and precious. It’s a dream being with her. But, their dream is bombed by the sudden opening of Heejin’s door. The shrapnels of it are blown away and its pieces litter the floor of her room, rattle against her walls, and pierce and twist through Heejin and Hyunjin’s hearts.

(There’s no returning from the scars it will leave behind.)

Heejin didn’t know if being gay was her worst fear or if being found out was worse. When her mother looks at her with shock in her eyes and a tint of hatred tinging them, Heejin thinks that having her mother looking at her in such disappointment is a formidable opponent against the two. When her mother kicks Hyunjin out, the other girl can barely reach for her phone on Heejin’s bedside table. When Hyunjin looks behind her as she leaves, she only catches Heejin’s downcast eyes, her body painfully stiff and tense.

(Hyunjin knows that this changes everything. Walking out of her house and texting her mother to pick her up, Hyunjin cries sitting on the curb in front of Heejin’s house.

She doesn’t know if she’s crying because of fear for Heejin and herself or if she’s mourning the loss of Heejin’s shining presence in her life.)

(It’s both because she knows that when the next day comes, Heejin will only be a shell of herself and that she’ll be further away from her than the next galaxy to the Milky Way. Heejin might have fooled herself, thinking that she was okay with being gay, but, Hyunjin knew better. She saw the fear in her eyes when Heejin talked to her mother, the quick trepidation that flashed whenever Sooyoung and Jinsol greeted her, the anxiety that weighed on her every night that they were together. It’s selfish, but, Hyunjin never had the strength to lift the weight away. She was too consumed in the pleasure of having her heart’s feelings being returned and she clawed and pleaded for her dream to stay.

She knows she should have done something.

She should have kept Heejin safe.)

When Hyunjin’s mother picks her up, she chooses not to question the tear tracks on her daughter’s cheeks and only offers a tissue and a reminder on her open arms.

(Hyunjin cries into them at two in the morning and it’s like she can feel the stray pieces of shrapnel lodged into Hyunjin’s heart. It pains her, achingly and devastatingly. But, what could she do? Hyunjin wouldn’t tell her what happened, would never disclose the details of her pain and anger. She had the habit of wanting to be strong and ignoring the moments where she was anything else. Parenthood is the hardest thing she has ever had to endure, but, she would do it all over again because her daughters are her treasure, her heart.)

Being in Heejin’s room with her mother scrutinizing her, it feels as if the girl had been blasted to another realm of living. It’s cold and isolated and lonely and she hates how weak it makes her feel.

Heejin’s mother closes her door and her voice is low and quiet—a telltale sign of anger.

“Look at me, Heejin.”

Heejin would rather look in the eyes of Medusa before she looks into her mother’s, but, rough hands tug at her chin and force her face up, and with how Heejin turns to stone, her mother might as well have been the Greek Gorgon monster.

Her voice is like metal and pelts at her like bullets.

“I am disappointed in you, Heejin. You know that homosexuality is a sin.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, mom.”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me, Heejin! God has given you life, died for your sins! And you repay Him like this! It’s disgraceful! We raised you better than this!”

Heejin can’t help the tears that start to blur her vision, “I can’t help it, mom! I didn’t want to like- I didn’t want to like girls. I know it’s wrong; I know that it’s a sin.”

“It’s an abomination, Heejin.”

When Heejin raises her voice, it cracks under the strain of fear and panic and crying, “I know that I’m a fuck up, mom! I know that I’m revolting!”

Watching her daughter cry unnerves her mother. At least Heejin knew the truth. She could change. She can be different—holy again. And as her mother, it was her responsibility to fix her. For her duty and loyalty to God and the Bible, her daughter will be better again. She will return her to her faith and she won’t accept anything else.

“I won’t tell your father about this; I will make something up. We can fix you, Heejin. There’s places that can make you pure again.”

Being gay can’t be fixed, Heejin knows this. But, God, she wants to believe that she can be. And faith has taken her everywhere. With her mother by her side and Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and God guiding her, she forces herself to think that she will become someone her mother will be proud of again, someone who she’ll love again.

Heejin packs her bags the same night caught in a whirlwind of pain dulled into a nagging tug at her heart. Hyunjin texts her to check up on her.

Aeongie ＾ ▽ ＾ : heekkie, i’m here for you if you need me

(Normally, that would calm her heart’s stress and put her to ease, but, the mere thought of her makes Heejin want to vomit.)

She hovers over the red text that pops up, thinks about how blocking Hyunjin feels a lot like cutting the tie that tethers them together.

It scares Heejin how much she wants to snip it and annex the girl from her life.

(It scares her even more when she considers how her life would have turned out without Hyunjin. Certainly, there would be less grief and pain and confusion. But, a part of her wonders if she would have been as happy as Hyunjin made her, wonders if she would have felt lonely without her by her side throughout all of her days.)

(Her heart’s pain is too great to see the gleaming silver lining in having Hyunjin in her life.)

Tapping at it, there is a startling peace that comes with knowing Hyunjin couldn’t contact her anymore.

(Heejin doesn’t know if it’s to protect herself or the girl that she almost came to love.)

All Heejin thinks of is how she will become clean again and renewed of her sins. The all-forgiving God will accept her repentance and penance, and maybe, she will come to forgive herself.

(If only Heejin could accept that she couldn’t be forced to change.)

~

Heejin reads the pamphlet that her mother hands to her. Written in white and boarded by the purple colors of Lent, “Straighten Up: Fixing the Imperfections!,” titles the program that she waits for. It’s obvious to her that the pamphlet targets people her age, if the fun text and sad attempt to humor was any indication. Frankly, she is too tired to care about the tacky design of the pamphlet and only focuses on getting better.

When Heejin looks at her phone, she thinks of the good morning text Hyunjin would have already sent to her by now. (Hyunjin never missed a day and it has been three years).

But, receiving a text from a blocked number would be hard to accomplish. And plus, her mother had deleted Hyunjin’s number off of it in the morning and made sure to cut off any connections with her, treating Hyunjin like an infection that had crept its way to her daughter’s heart. (She was only ensuring that the impurity wouldn’t stain more than it already has.)

Arriving at the building, its walls are white with quotes from the Scripture written in cursive at the top of the doorway that welcomes them in.

Meeting with the counselor there, Heejin sets the goals she wants to have for herself.

“I don’t want to like girls anymore. I don’t want to like my friend anymore. I don’t want to sin anymore. I want to be good again.”

For the next month, it feels a lot like summer camp. Singing around the fire, bunking with other teenagers going through her same problem, and playing around by the lake, the nightly therapy sessions are the only things reminding her of her goal—as if she could ever forget her fears and her desperate need to fix herself.

Somehow, at the end of the two months, Hyunjin is nothing but a stranger to her, a passing face to forget. Heejin feels better. She didn’t miss Hyunjin’s arms around her, nonetheless, ache to feel her lips on hers. In fact, she was content with moving on without ever seeing her again. It’s eventual how her counselor gets her to distance herself from her ex-best friend. It starts with dissociating memories and the past with the present. It ends at getting her to only see Hyunjin for her sexuality and her lack of motivation to better herself.

She’s able to fall asleep at night, the silver cross hanging off of her neck resting against her chest.

She’s come to love herself again, just as God has come to forgive her.

~

AGE FIFTEEN

When Heejin steps into high school for the first time as a sophomore, it’s just as underwhelming as it was her freshman year. Nothing like how movies show, everything is mundane and casual. Unlike her first day of preschool, she isn’t crying when her mother drops her off. She also doesn’t have Hyunjin beside her to hold her hand. Heejin grasps the cross layered over her top and lets the edges of it dig into her palm. She shouldn’t be thinking of her. Her counselor had told her that that’s the first step to recession.

Heejin wants to move forward. Forward and away from Hyunjin.

Heejin’s disappearance from Hyunjin’s life is sudden and all at once. It doesn’t ween off the way a smoker quits cigarettes. It’s cold turkey and it’s absolutely just as difficult living without her as it is quitting everything completely. When Hyunjin sees her walking through the halls, presumably to get to her locker, it’s just her luck that Heejin stops at the one across from hers. Hyunjin doesn’t know if it’s bravery or the desperation of missing her that gets her to make her way to Heejin’s locker.

Leaning against the wall of lockers, Hyunjin puts on the smile that she knows Heejin loves. (She had told her that their third night together in between the pauses of kissing her.)

“Hi Heekkie! I missed you all summer! How are you doing?”

(Heejin wishes she didn’t know that veiled underneath Hyunjin’s cheery disposition is her overbearing concern to make sure that she was okay. How Hyunjin could just ask how the day is treating her for Heejin to know that she was asking if she needed comfort used to make Heejin feel safe and protected.)

Slinging her backpack onto her backpack, Heejin doesn’t even spare her a glance and moves forward as if Hyunjin doesn’t even exist. As she walks away, she grasps even tighter at her cross, letting it dig in even deeper.

Hyunjin thinks that even a stranger would have been afforded the decency of at least a second of eye contact. It shatters her and it leaves the fragments of her hearts in a distraught mess of betrayal and broken hope.

Her faith never led her anywhere good.

She had believed, with all of her heart, that Heejin would never be the one to forsake her, yet, she had.

Indifference is moving on. It seemed as if Heejin had been able to do it in the span of almost three months while Hyunjin remained hung up on her like the strung up lanterns in her backyard. She thinks that even a piñata would have the decency of being let down after being beat up.

She didn’t want Heejin to move on from her, not when she couldn’t even last a day without wanting to look at pictures of them together because that was closest she could get to seeing her. If Heejin could give her a reason—a true and honest reason—why she had abandoned her, letting go would be much easier because Hyunjin is more than willing to wait. She has all of the patience in the world for her.

(Being young and hurt and relentlessly persistent, Hyunjin doesn’t understand the desperation Heejin claws at to escape from her, to escape from the reminders of her sins. Escape from accepting the truth that her heart knows.)

At lunch, Hyunjin finds Heejin not far from the corner. (It’s not hard to find her. Heejin liked corners—especially right ones—because they made her feel safer.) When she sits at her table, Heejin only flicks her eyes at her before packing her lunch and starting her depart from Hyunjin. Following her outside to the courtyard, Hyunjin doesn’t understand the silence Heejin gives her.

“Heejin!”

The girl keeps walking forward, her eyes briefly clenching shut. (It’s so hard to ignore the person her heart wanted most. Even Heejin can’t be oblivious to the fact; it doesn’t mean she has to accept it though.)

“Jeon Heejin! Stop running away and fucking look at me! I know you’re not a coward, Heejin. Face me!”

Ten years of friendship tells Heejin that Hyunjin is more hurt than she is mad, if by how her voice thunders and cracks under the sudden usage of it. (She usually was more soft-spoken, her voice like silk. Heejin used to love it. It would always bring her down on her bad days.)

Looking at her and finally looking into her eyes, Heejin’s heart pangs at the desolation and sadness in them. She clenches at the cross hanging on her neck. Its edges are a reminder, a punishment. (Caught in a battle between mind and heart, Heejin doesn’t allow for her heart to win.)

“What do you want from me, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin’s shoulders sag and it’s the second time Heejin has ever seen her so vulnerable—the first time being the night they shared their first kiss. (Heejin clenches even tighter, needs to feel the pain to remind herself not to fall back.)

“I need to know why you left me. I need to know why I couldn’t contact you, why I never saw you, why you seem to hate me. I need to understand how you could go from kissing me every Friday night and Saturday morning to leaving me stranded and alone everyday. It’s eating away at me!”

Hearing Hyunjin’s rehash of the memories that Heejin had stuffed in a box and tucked away in the darkest corner of her mind, the only thing that comes close to grounding her is the edges of her cross digging into her palm. But, all of the memories come rushing in with reckless abandon like a crashing tidal wave—the kisses they’d share at night, how Hyunjin’s eyes crinkled from smiling too hard after, how waking up beside her gave her the lightest feeling, how she almost loved Hyunjin. No matter how hard she grasps at her cross, it’s not enough to anchor her the way she needs it to.

(Nothing could ever ground her the way Hyunjin did and all it would take was the feeling of her arms around her and her voice whispering into her ears. For one, it didn’t hurt to have Hyunjin bringing her down, and two, it made her feel safe. But, it’s not right. Being with Hyunjin is wrong and thinking about their past is detrimental to her progress.)

“I left because being with you is wrong. Me thinking about you in the way that I was was sinful and it was a selfish act. And God had sacrificed Himself for me and I thanked Him by going against His word. It’s wrong and I had to be away from you to get better and to beg for His forgiveness.”

Coming closer, it’s the first time in a long time where Hyunjin can distinctly see the moles on Heejin’s cheek and by her eye. (When they had been together, every time, Hyunjin would kiss those beauty marks and without fail, Heejin would giggle and it would feel like sunbathing outside and feeling the sun's warm rays on a breezy day.)

“I don’t see how me pretty much falling in love with you is wrong. Love is love, Heejin. It doesn’t matter who it’s between. And you know it. You’ve seen it! With Sooyoung and Jinsol. They’re not bad people, just like how you and I aren’t!”

And that’s the fuse that blows.

“I’m not gay! I’m not gay like you, Hyunjin! I’m not a sinner like you! I’m not an abomination! I’m- I’m not a fuck up like you are! I’m made in the image God created me as and He wouldn’t have made me be so deplorable!”

And it hurts to hear those words come from Heejin’s lips. If it had come from anyone else, Hyunjin would be able to move on as if nothing had happened—she had grown accustomed to how people have come to speak in spite of her for her sexual attraction. But, this is Heejin. This is the girl she was ready to hand her heart to. She’s the same girl she grew up with and played in sandboxes with. She’s the girl who jumped in puddles with her and blew dandelion furs away with. She’s the girl Hyunjin wanted to be permanent in her life. It hurts her more than the night of Heejin’s mother walking in on them. She wants to cry, but, she won’t let herself break in front of Heejin. For reasons unclear, she doesn’t know if it is because Heejin doesn’t deserve to see her in her weakness or if it is because she was so used to being strong for the girl and never allowing for herself to cry.

She didn’t ever want to give up on Heejin—she never even considered it. But, she hadn’t foreseen Heejin speaking with such hate firing behind her eyes—speaking with such venom. It terrifies her. Because Hyunjin sees that she is one of those people that Heejin has come to hate—and God, that was one of the last things Hyunjin wanted from her.

(It’s almost scary how blurry it is to remember how it had felt to have been in Heejin’s arms mere months ago. Hyunjin wonders if she had hallucinated the two months of happiness and freedom.)

Hyunjin doesn’t know what hurts her most—the fact that she had to give up on believing the Heejin that she came to love was no longer here or that Heejin had strayed so far to hate her.

It scares her more when she thinks of how Heejin had to have really hated herself deeply enough to have become this empty shell drowning in hatred and intolerance. Heejin wasn’t born like that. She came into the world with a loving and caring heart, sensitive to abandonment and loneliness. The Heejin that she knows and loves is the one that held her hand on their very first day of preschool to make them feel less alone—the one that makes her feel safe.

This one, the Heejin in front of her, terrifies her and makes her want to cower.

But, ten years of friendship—and something a little more—has taught Hyunjin to see the lost and empty look in Heejin’s eyes. She knows something in the girl’s heart is begging to be heard.

This time, she’ll keep her safe.

Even if it means getting Heejin to hate her, as long as she could see her every day and have her attention, Hyunjin promises to a constant figure in her life so that when everything falls apart, she will be there to gather the pieces to help Heejin put herself back together.

(More than Heejin hating her, Hyunjin feared Heejin dismissing her as a stranger. She had too many memories with her to cherish for her to accept the cycle of becoming strangers again.

Whatever it takes.

The Heejin that she loves is worth the devastation.

Whatever it takes to keep her attention.)

~

AGE SIXTEEN

Whoever said that high school would be the best four years of Heejin’s life couldn’t be more wrong. On top of meaningless busy work, the incessant need to fit in, and the teenage peak of insecurity and need for validation, Heejin was also dealing with fighting the girl who used to be her best friend whilst stubbornly and adamantly ignoring the truth of her sexual identity while attending her weekly Confirmation classes. (Heejin finds that she is one of five teenagers there who actually wants to get confirmed. Everyone else, Heejin figures, is there because their parents forced them to be there.)

Sophomore year isn’t necessarily hard—the adjustment to the pacing of the academics is rough, but, Heejin adapts seamlessly. She tries out for the dance team (for the sake of the college applications) and she gets called back for auditions and is accepted into the dance troupe. Luckily for her, Jungeun tries out and make it too. It comforts her to know that she would have a friend with her. (Heejin knows Hyunjin would have tried out too, but, for as much as she actively tried to bother her in their passing periods and breaks between classes, Hyunjin tended to avoid her like the plague. It’s odd how her behavior completely flipped. Instead of her usual bright smile and warm eyes, Hyunjin turned cold. Ever since the first day of sophomore year, Hyunjin would jab words at her in passing and Heejin knows well enough that it’s not the same light-hearted teasing she would do in the past. Her words come with different intentions and Heejin would never admit how much it hurts her.)

(But, Heejin doesn’t need to wonder why Hyunjin avoids her for the most part. A large piece of her is thankful that she only sees Hyunjin in small intervals of the day and thinks that seeing her would just trigger her back to her bad place. She had worked too hard to become clean to carelessly make herself impure again.)

There, they meet Jiwoo who is the human embodiment of the sun’s rays. Heejin would say she was the sun, but, a freshman named Yerim easily takes that with how bright and cheery her disposition is. Jiwoo, too, thinks that Yerim takes the cake for this one.

Heejin thinks that the universe has an obsession with sticking Hyunjin and her together.

After waiting behind for Jungeun to change back into her clothes, Heejin talks with Yerim and Jiwoo to occupy herself. When they walk out of the dance room, Hyunjin, Hyejoo, and Chaewon are situated outside leaning against the lockers. When Yerim waves goodbye and bounces off to them, it’s like Hyunjin’s eyes are magnetized to hers. They land on her and gaze at her. Usually, Heejin could read her well, but, the disharmony between them proves the task to be difficult. But, nevertheless, she sees that there is a desolate and lost look to them. It’s still the same ache as the first day’s pain.

Before the four walk away, Hyunjin makes sure to harshly bump into her shoulder, enough for her to have to take a step back to stabilize herself. Her voice is cold and detached. (Heejin misses how she used to warmly say her name and talk with her. She feels the silver cross on her chest scorch her skin through her shirt. She clenches at it to remind herself to stay grounded and away from missing Hyunjin and thinking about her affectionately—needs it to remind herself that everything about it is wrong.)

“Watch where you’re going, Jeon.”

Jiwoo, ever so compassionate, stands up for Heejin, “You bumped into her! You watch where you’re going, Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin sends a glare back and Jiwoo shrinks under it, “Stay out of it, Jiwoo. Heejin’s battles are not yours to fight.”

Holding the girl back, Heejin watches as they depart. Hyunjin isn't worth the fight. Like a mantra she repeats to herself while grasping the cross hanging on her neck, “She’s not worth it. She’s not worth your time. She’s dirty and unwilling to change. She will have her damnation.”

~

As time for the winter sports assembly rolls around, Heejin is not surprised to see Hyunjin performing some song on stage with her basketball team. Hyunjin always had spectacular talent in sports and her making the varsity team for volleyball, basketball, and soccer in her freshman year had made Heejin so enthusiastically proud of her.

(Heejin remembers how she congratulated her with kisses on her face and hands and arms. She feels a radiating heat from her cross; it reminds her of her past sins to prevent her from doing wrong again.

But, it doesn’t stop her from thinking about how soft Hyunjin’s lips were.

Fighting her heart’s desires gives her a heavy weight to carry and it’s an exhausting toll to labor over, but, for Him, she will. Her penance, one she deemed herself, is her strict regulation to purge anything reminding her of Hyunjin and her together. She owes God that much for being selfish and careless.)

Out of all of her teammates, Hyunjin dances the best and Jungeun and Jiwoo even admit the fact. (Of course she dances the best. Heejin dragged her to enough of her dance workshops when they were younger for Hyunjin to build an admirable set of skills.)

After school ends, Heejin leaves to the girl’s locker room to change for dance practice. To her misfortune, Hyunjin is also there lacing up her ankle braces for basketball practice.

Hyunjin hasn’t been kind to her. Nor has Heejin been to Hyunjin.

“You’re looking uncomfortable there, Jeon.”

“Scared you’re gonna look at me when I’m changing since you’re a dyke after all.”

Hyunjin scoffs and picks up her shoes after lacing up her last brace, “I may be a dyke, but, I'm not a sexual predator, asshole.”

(Heejin knew it was unfair of her to scrutinize Hyunjin like that, but, the burning of the cross on her chest hurts her too much for her to feel guilty.)

Before Hyunjin leaves, she pushes particularly hard at Heejin’s shoulder with hers. Heejin knows that how Hyunjin’s eyes fade even dimmer and how her voice comes out low and rumbling is enough for her to understand that her words had hurt Hyunjin more than they angered her. Heejin replays how Hyunjin spat out the derogatory word—how it sounded so disgusted and repulsed—and knows that it was only mimicking hers. It hurts to hear the word coming from Hyunjin because Heejin knows that it’s how she thinks of herself.

A dyke. Abomination. Disgusting. A mistake.

(Heejin wishes that her mother’s voice would just get out of her head. It’s her voice repeating those things. It haunts her. It’s seared into her and she thinks the burning of her cross in her hands is just a gentle lick of fire compared to the hellfire of hearing her mother.)

It seems as if the two were never even friends, but, their words are too pointed and specific for them to be strangers. It’s just all of the right words for their hearts to sting and for its pain to linger like a jagged cut.

~

Peace is a foreign concept to history. Wrought by war, violence, and crimes, Heejin wonders how anyone could live in such conflict. But, she remembers that she has her own wars—with herself, with Hyunjin, with her faith. The symbiotic relationship between the three prevents peace from coming into her life. Every day is a constant tug-of-war between her and Hyunjin. Every day is a constant reminder of her sins, her faults. Every day is feeling insufficient and unworthy to God.

It drives her insane.

She thought she would love herself by now.

The highs of therapy, Confirmation retreats, and weekly church could only do so much.

Heejin starts going to confession every month. She kneels behind the divider, afraid and ashamed to look at the priest seated behind it. She confesses to lying, to thinking about Hyunjin, to not being strong enough to fight sin. She pleads the Act of Contrition like a desperate apology. When the priest gives her her penance, she prays a rosary for every Hail Mary and Our Father she gets. She comes home with her knees aching despite the pews’ padding. (At least her mother praises her for her dedication.)

On particularly bad weeks, she crosses her arms over her chest to receive a blessing instead of the Eucharist—thinks that she doesn’t deserve to celebrate and eat the Body of Christ if she couldn’t harbor her thoughts about Hyunjin.

When she gets confirmed, her knees rest on the cold floor of the altar, her mother’s hand rests on her shoulder, and the bishop anoints her with Holy Oil, sealing the Holy Spirit within her. Bound to the church, to God, to her religion by her own choice, Heejin prays that her closer union with Christ will stop her from thinking about Hyunjin.

It doesn’t.

No matter the hours she spends looking at the cross in her church, looking at how Jesus is nailed to it to remind herself of His sacrifices, it’s not enough.

She’s never enough and it angers her because all Hyunjin has to do is look at her from across the hall for Heejin to revert back. Every time Hyunjin talks to her or bumps into her, it burns at her skin, scalds her eardrums. Hyunjin scorches her and it leaves scars after her wake.

Lost in her anger, lost in the hate she has in herself, Heejin starts hating Hyunjin too.

Heejin comes to hate her, but, at least Hyunjin had her attention.

Indifference is moving on and Heejin has done anything but.

~

AGE SEVENTEEN

Becoming more spiteful, Heejin digs herself further into the closet. Hyunjin takes her jabs at her, Heejin dishes them back. It’s a tiring war of emotions lodged in places they shouldn’t be. Heejin doesn’t know if she’s stuck in a nightmare fighting Hyunjin or was stuck in a long and blissful dream being friends and almost lovers with the girl.

When Hansol asks her to the homecoming dance by giving her a Kit-Kat bar, a candy that Heejin ordered on their first date at the movies back in the beginning of freshman year, Heejin allows for herself to delude her appreciation as something more.

As the years went by, Hansol became even more charming. He had grown into his longer limbs and he had rose to popularity for his personable personality and skills in soccer. It’s a no-brainer to Heejin. Popular, varsity and first-string offensive left wing, and liked by teachers, this boy is going to be good for Heejin. (Especially because she knows how being with him would help her forget about Hyunjin, maybe even help her rub the fact that she could move on in her face. It’s fail-proof and it’d be enough to hurt Hyunjin the way she wanted to.)

(How manipulative and cruel her plan is doesn’t cross Heejin’s mind; she’s too focused on proving something to someone.)

(The something being heterosexuality and the someone being herself. But, pleasing her mother and getting her agenda done is an excellent substitute for the truth.)

(Anything compulsory isn’t meant to last.)

When the dance comes, Hansol’s tie and pocket handkerchief matches her dress. It’s a straight teenager’s dream. Heejin likes to think that she is happy, but, she finds herself completely uninterested throughout the night. But, that doesn’t stop her from slow dancing with Hansol for the night and resting her head on his chest. He smells of light musk and something fresh. It’s not horrible. (But, it’s not as nice as vanilla.) At the corner of her eye, she sees Hyunjin slow dancing with some girl and Heejin ignores how her heart aches at the sight. (Heejin thinks that her heart could fuck right off—it’s been a pain in the ass for the past couple of years and wouldn’t let her be happy. Heejin can’t remember the last time her mind was at peace with her heart.)

Before Heejin’s mother comes to pick her up, Hansol steals a kiss from her by the tennis courts. It’s the first time she’s been kissed since freshman year. Hansol leaves right after with promises to text her and she should feel happy that her "dream guy" kissed her, but, she can’t help but to feel nonchalantly unenthused. (Heejin wishes she had her cross to clench because she can’t help but to compare how kissing Hyunjin felt so much nicer and warmer. She wishes she had the pain of her cross as a reminder instead of the memory of how safe she felt in Hyunjin’s arms after giving her first kiss to her.)

Heejin lies when she tells Hansol that he was her first kiss.

(It pains her heart how she forces one of her happiest memories into darkness.)

Dating Hansol is nice. He’s polite and mindful of her for the most part. He brings his friends around too much and it makes Heejin feel a little uncomfortable, but, she wasn’t going to shoo them away. Her mother loves him and asks for Heejin to bring him over for dinner every Friday. (It delights her mother to no end when she learns that he is an active altar boy for Sunday night masses at another local church. Her mother and Heejin start attending the services there instead of their usual church.)

It’s especially nice when she sees how Hyunjin flinches when he kisses her goodbye. When she avoids her eyes and doesn’t bump into her before walking to her class like she normally does, Heejin revels in the peace her mind rolls around in.

The girl only avoids her completely for a week. She comes back stronger and even more persistent on asserting her presence in Heejin’s life and it’s like cutting off a head and getting two more back. When they’re alone in the hall, Hyunjin’s eyes are mocking and cold. Frighteningly so. It’s the first time Hyunjin talks about their almost relationship and she dangles it like a threat, “Is Hansol a better kisser than me?”

It’s a harsh slap to Heejin’s face and it hurts her when she realizes that this is the first time Hyunjin used something akin to her greatest fear against her. The stab from the circumstance of it all, how she had hurt Hyunjin enough for her to say something so close to her greatest monster, digs the dull ache in her chest even deeper.

(Exploiting the heart is a messy game to play. If Heejin wanted to play, so will Hyunjin.)

Heejin only scoffs and harshly knocks into her shoulder when she leaves.

Hyunjin doesn’t need to hear her answer to know it.

Of course she was the better kisser.

Heejin had actually wanted to kiss her, unlike Hansol.

~

The first time Hansol touches her, it’s on her behind and it makes her skin crawl. She bats his hand away and apologizes when he asks why.

She lets him touch her again even if she feels like her skin is drowning in a vat of poison.

(His touch burns her more than the cross does on her chest when she thinks about Hyunjin and how she had asked if she could even hold her waist when they first shared a kiss that was deeper than their first innocent ones.

Hyunjin always afforded her the utmost respect and consideration.

“Why’d you ask if you could put your hands on me?”

“Because I appreciate you and I want to do it appropriately. I want you to be comfortable around me and I want to keep you safe, especially from me.”)

Being with Hansol gave her mind a chance to rest its incessant need to be good and favorable in God’s eyes.

It only gave her heart more to dwell on.

Being with Hansol feels wrong. Especially when Heejin can see how much he likes her. He tries his best to be considerate of her and kind. He does his best trying to fit in with her friends, but, there is always something that feels off.

It feels wrong because she knows she’s hurting Hyunjin too. Even if superficially it seemed that Hyunjin despised her, Heejin knows that if the girl had truly hated her, she would have outed her to the school, come to her home to taunt her in front of her mother, use an identity she was too afraid of even acknowledging against her.

Hyunjin could be ruthless and unforgiving, especially with how Heejin has been hurting her. It’s not fair and it’s cruel and heartless how she ignores Hyunjin ever loving her—whether it be as a friend or something more—and pretends that their beautiful years of friendship is nothing but a meaningless joke and fluke.

Heejin feels nasty. Everything about her feels revolting. (Heejin wonders how many people she is willing to hurt just to protect herself from the truth—the number is low, but, the damage is devastating.)

Heejin can’t remember the last time she felt clean. Even when she goes to confession monthly, even when she starts going to mass every Friday and Sunday, even when she pleads to God for forgiveness, she feels so dirty and shameful.

She hates how it feels.

She hates how she hates herself.

~

Being friends with Jungeun and Jiwoo forces Heejin to think differently and in the coming tides of change, it’s perfect timing.

The end of junior year starts with the two girls announcing their relationship and at first Heejin shrinks away, barraged by words of Scripture coming to mind. But, she sees how warmly Jungeun smiles and how Jiwoo looks at her.

How could people so loving be repulsive?

(And plus, hating Jiwoo is like kicking a defenseless puppy across the room and Heejin might be homophobic, but, she was no animal abuser.)

Being around them (because Heejin didn’t want to make new friends and reveled in the comfort she had with them and didn’t want to lose her one place of social safety), having Hyunjin’s constant pestering, and her years-long struggle of silencing her sexual identity, Heejin starts questioning the Bible and the Scripture.

Her God is supposed to be all powerful, knowing, and good. Shouldn’t an all-powerful and knowing God be aware of Heejin and all of the decisions she makes and the thoughts that come to her? He should have known that she wouldn’t be able to be as the Bible preaches. And if He created her in His image with his infinite power, shouldn’t she be perfect in that way? Shouldn’t an all good God be kind to her, even if she strayed from the natural?

How could a faith so persistent and consistent on preaching about love and spreading it be so hateful?

Nothing makes sense to her and Heejin needs answers to start understanding her faith—needs to learn how she could love herself while keeping God by her side.  

Leviticus had said that homosexuality is idolatry and an abomination, but, Jungeun and Jiwoo are nothing but pure and good, innocent and wholesomely in love. (Heejin thinks about how her and Hyunjin were pure and innocently close to love. She mourns how happy she was back then.)

For the first time, Heejin goes to Hansol’s church for confession, the timing for her usual church's hours not coinciding with her dance practice times. When she talks to the priest and asks her questions about God and her sexuality, the priest doesn’t send her to penance. He disapproves of the Scripture and urges Heejin to forgive the Bible for writing hate into a book that is supposed to be about teaching love.

It’s the first time Heejin feels accepted for who she truly is.

It’s so fucking freeing.

Heejin walks out of the confessional without a penance to do and she feels the lightness in her steps.

When she begins to accept herself for who she is and thinks that while she may not be clean, she is not impure because she likes girls, likes Hyunjin.

The Monday after her confession with the priest at Hansol’s church, she breaks up with him by the tennis courts.

“Can I ask why, Heejin?”

“It’s not you, it’s me, Hansol.”

(Hansol also had the tendency to be boring. Heejin likes to think of this as retribution to the past.)

~

AGE EIGHTEEN

While being in the closet isn’t the greatest feeling in the world, it certainly doesn’t measure up to how good it feels for Heejin to love herself again. The silver cross that she used to wear hangs around her car’s rear view mirror and it feels like the weight on her chest is lifted. When she thinks about Hyunjin, she doesn’t feel like she is regressing, doesn’t feel a burning cross-shaped figure on her chest, doesn’t hate herself for dwelling on how pretty Hyunjin’s toothy smile is.

The first person she comes out to is Jiwoo.

The two were making snow angels on the eve of Christmas Eve and Jiwoo leaves her snow angel on the floor to cuddle Heejin in warmth and acceptance. It makes her feel so wholesome and loved. It feels so remarkably good to be loved. Heejin forgot how it feels to be loved for who she is. (The only person who ever loved her unconditionally was Hyunjin. Even if it was platonically, Heejin knew that she did. Romantically, Heejin doesn’t know, but, she thinks that Hyunjin presently feels something at a great extent otherwise she wouldn’t spend a lot of her time pestering her.)

When Heejin tells Jiwoo about her past three years and her messy relationship with Hyunjin, Jiwoo smothers her in a hug and promises to give her more love and reassurance. Jiwoo is a strong source for confidence and support and she makes a promise to be with Heejin every step of the way to getting the strength needed to apologize to Hyunjin. And to come out to Hyunjin. And to make her way back to her.

Heejin doesn’t doubt Jiwoo’s friendship with her. That girl is steadfast and strong when she really wanted to be.

~

The first party Heejin attends, it’s New Year’s Eve and it’s a culture shock for her.

With bottles of hard liquor and chasers on the counter with tons of pizza boxes in the kitchen, the chaotic mess of teenagers everywhere is overwhelming. Walking further into the house, Heejin makes sure to keep off of the couches to avoid the couples making out and dry humping there. She also makes sure to knock before opening any doors because she saw too much of her economics classmate when she tried finding the bathroom.

Jungeun and Jiwoo are there with her and they make her feel safer and they promise to watch over her. She leaves to the kitchen to get a slice of pizza and she’s pleasantly buzzed and she likes how it feels when she sways around. Everything’s a bit funky, the alcohol leaving its effects on her brain. She likes how loose she feels—it’s a relief to how strung up she has been for the past two years. When she comes back with a slice, her cup is refilled with a third of it being vodka and the rest of it mixed with fruit punch. It doesn’t take much for her to get drunk. With having little to no tolerance with hard alcohol, being small, and not drinking much water throughout the night and eating, Heejin is blissfully drunk. (Jungeun and Jiwoo make sure to keep her at that threshold; it’d be hard to lug her around if she was blackout drunk and it’s also dangerous in general.)

Leaned up against a wall, Heejin watches how the party unfolds in front of her. Hyunjin isn’t there. Heejin had searched for her, but, there was no hide or hair of her there.

(It makes sense. Hyunjin never cared for drinking and the party scene.)

A girl sidles up to her and Heejin can’t remember her name, only knows that it ends in “jin” like hers does.

“You’re looking lonely.”

Heejin nods and takes a gulp of her drink.

“My friends are getting me water and pizza. They told me to stay here and wait for them.”

“And you’re actually staying?”

Heejin shrugs. She’s always been good at listening to instructions. She didn’t like breaking rules much, her strict following of her faith making that obvious.

“I’ve got good discipline.”

When she sees Jungeun and Jiwoo at the corner of her eye, she sees how they ask her if they needed to rescue her from the girl beside her. Heejin shakes her head as a negative answer. Jiwoo still takes the pizza and water in her hand to Heejin, but, waves goodbye as she and Jungeun settle at an unoccupied corner to still keep an eye on Heejin.

“They’re your babysitters for the night?”

Heejin laughs and takes a bite of her pizza.

“They call it babysitting, I call it fair payback for making me third-wheel them.”

“They’re dating?”

Heejin nods and uncaps her water and sets her drink down—that was enough alcohol for her tonight.

“They’re probably gonna kiss each other when midnight strikes and I’m just going to stand here like a lonely loser.”

The girl laughs. (Her name is Ryujin as Heejin barely recalls).

“You don’t have to be a lonely loser if you’ll have me?”

Heejin laughs in disbelief. The inhibition alcohol has given her has made her forget the consequences that come with certain actions. She might’ve missed Hyunjin and kissing her, but, she also just missed kissing someone she wants to kiss.

And she wants to kiss Ryujin. Her lips look soft and she is ridiculously pretty.

She’s no Hyunjin, but, she’s someone Heejin wants for the night.

When the new year hits, Heejin kisses Ryujin and it’s pleasant and she doesn’t necessarily feel safe or warm and secure, but, she doesn’t feel like vomiting after (whether it be from alcohol or the past hate she had for herself, Heejin doesn’t know) and it’s nice to give into her desires without condemning herself for it.

It’s purely physical and when Heejin leaves Ryujin’s house with her arms over Jungeun and Jiwoo’s shoulder, she thanks her for the kiss and her temporary company.

The next morning, Heejin wakes up with a sensitivity to light and anything louder than a whisper. Sleeping over at Jiwoo’s is a mistake because her windows filter in all of the light in the damn world and Jiwoo had a hard time remembering Heejin’s current state and is constantly singing loudly in the kitchen while she made the greasiest food possible. Heejin doesn’t find herself annoyed. She’s rather endeared because Jiwoo forces Jungeun to dance with her in the kitchen and even though Heejin’s head pounds, she likes how happy and in love they look.

Heejin hopes that that could be her in the future. Hopefully with Hyunjin. She just wants to be happy again—fully and genuinely.

~

Apologizing to Hyunjin is proving to be an immense obstacle to climb.

The months pass by with futile attempts at even talking to her. Heejin didn’t realize how cold and distant Hyunjin made herself to be. Her words feel harsher, even if they’re the same to how they’ve been for the past two years.

Hyunjin is hard to approach. In the past, it’s always been her making her way to Heejin and bothering her. Heejin sees now that Hyunjin is popular in her own right. A respected jock of sorts for being amazing at every sport she plays as well with excelling in school and AP classes, Hyunjin has her own group of friends that carried an air of power and confidence. (Heejin is not blind to the small group of girls whose eyes follow every move she makes. She gets it though. Her eyes do the same.)

And plus, even getting a start on thinking about all of the things to apologize for is not an easy thing to be courageous over. She had put Hyunjin under an unnecessary amount of pain and torment for the past two years and fear is such a thing that exists when Heejin wishes that it absolutely wasn’t.

When Hyunjin does her usual shoulder check and round of bitter words, Heejin can only take her treatment with sadness. She thinks that this is the least that she deserves for hurting Hyunjin the way she did. Even if there is mutuality in their battle of hurting each other, Heejin thinks that her own attempts had hurt the other girl much more than Hyunjin's empty words had hurt her.

Heejin feels disgustingly guilty about using Hansol against Hyunjin. She had gone for a weakness that would have damage her with complete purpose and malice, and not only did she hurt her, she also hurt a completely innocent bystander who had the best intentions for her. Heejin was reckless and selfish and she knows that the penance she did in the past will never be enough to justify the pain she inflicted.

She wants to be better, but, that is easier said than done. But, she will. She’s determined to be better. So much awaits the better version of her and she wants to be good enough to deserve it.

~

It’s prom night and Heejin doesn’t have a date to the dance. When she was a freshman, she thought that Hyunjin would have happily been her date (she would have), but, with how things turned out, that didn’t even seem to be an option for her.

(She wishes she could have the ability to spend the night with Hyunjin. She wishes she could slow dance with her and put her forehead with hers (close enough to smell her perfume—Heejin thinks that it’s still vanilla because whenever Hyunjin walked by, a faint whiff of sweet vanilla followed her) and watch how she smiles under the lowlights of the room and reminisce about how a moment similar to this one told her that she liked the other girl. She wishes she could kiss her in the middle of the dance floor, could watch how Hyunjin would stuff hors d'oeuvres in her mouth for the hell of it just to make her laugh, and hear hers throughout the night.)

(Heejin finds bliss in the liberation of finally being able to think these things without the suffocating drag of repression and religion dragging her down. Heejin doesn’t miss the silver cross that hung at her neck to remind her of her fears—instead she misses the hands that would comfort her in the midst of her terrors. She misses Hyunjin so damn much.

But, Heejin knows she doesn’t deserve her. The way she hurt her is something irreparable and devastating. She heaves the full blame onto herself even when she knows she shouldn’t. But, how could she not when Hyunjin is stuck in a cycle of mistaking hate for love and Heejin couldn’t do anything about it?

A part of her cowers at trying to fix things with Hyunjin. How could she repair something—someone—so far beyond her fixing?)

(The answer to that is that she couldn’t and would never be able to. Fixing someone isn’t her responsibility. That is something meant for the other person to do on their own with the right help. Heejin isn’t right for the kind of healing Hyunjin needs.)

For the night, she dances with her friends, loses herself in the music and to the sound of Jiwoo’s laugh. It’s fun, for the most part, when she ignored the mourning of Hyunjin’s loving presence in her life. When the song for the slow dance comes on, it’s a blaring reminder of what Heejin lost and it’s too much for her to stay. (Jungeun and Jiwoo are already dancing together and Heejin feels her heart’s happiness for them—its endless gratefulness that the two didn’t have to face the turmoil she and Hyunjin are facing. A love untainted by hate and ignorance is a love to be celebrated and treasured.)

Stepping outside of the room and to the balcony, there is only one person there.

Hyunjin.

(The universe loved putting them together.)

When Heejin cautiously walks up next to her, it’s not because she is afraid of her, but it’s because she doesn’t want to startle her or the air around them.

“I’m exhausted, Heekkie.”

(It’s the first time Hyunjin has used her nickname in three years. It sounds like the sound of heaven’s gates opening for her.)

Hyunjin’s voice is weary, her posture sagged and her eyes dim. Heejin knows this exhaustion is not the one that pertains to now. It’s the toll of their fighting and their constant clash. It’s the exhaustion of pretending to hate her when her heart wanted to do the opposite. Heejin, too, is running low. She’s tired of playing along and hiding away from her. She’s tired of this cycle and its consumption of joy.

“Can- can we stop pretending, at least for tonight, that I hate you? I’m so tired, Heekkie. I just, I want to be around you and pretend that everything in the last two years didn’t happen. I miss being happy with you, being made happy by you. I need this one night, Heejin.”

It’s the third time Heejin sees her so worn down and vulnerable. The girl doesn’t think she’ll ever forget her first two times seeing Hyunjin so stripped of her walls. For once, not allowing for her fears to win, Heejin doesn’t succumb to her monsters and makes the decision to keep Hyunjin safe—to protect her the way the other girl always had for her.

Like their first homecoming dance together where Hyunjin had asked Heejin to slow dance with her, except with the roles reversed, Heejin pulls Hyunjin into her arms. When the girl’s arms wrap around her neck and her face buries into her neck, it’s the first time in a very long time where Heejin feels that her heart is at peace.

No one, and nothing, could ever ground her the way Hyunjin could.

That never changed, just as her heart’s pounding for her.

(The next couple of times Hyunjin sees Heejin, she doesn’t send the normal round of jabs she has for her. It’s often just looking at her and being unable to tear her eyes away. Sometimes, Hyunjin will brush against her in the halls, but, there is a light in her eyes. It doesn’t feel as resentful when she teases her—it feels the way it did four years ago when Hyunjin used to poke fun at her.

It’s confusing because Hyunjin acts as if their slow dance at prom didn’t happen. She still teases her, but, doesn’t have a go at her with the same menace she had before.

Change is coming again. Slowly, but, surely.

“About fucking time,” Heejin thinks.)

~

As graduation lallygags around the corner, seniors are afforded the freedom to wander around more and the ability to take the pacing of school at a slower rate. Heejin had needed to get her lunch from her locker, her history teacher being lenient with food in the classroom. The halls are at a low clamor, the sounds of other classrooms bleeding under the cracks of the doors. When Heejin feels a presence behind her, she feels a mild annoyance knowing that it had to have been Hyunjin. The other girl hadn’t had her daily share of teasing her yet and Heejin was waiting for her appearance. Sighing superficially in exasperation, Heejin starts to speak before she turns around with mild mirth in her eyes.

“What do you want, Hyunjin?”

Instead of being met with the girl’s teasing smile and teasing, but, bright eyes, Heejin is met with the towering of a fellow senior glowering at her.

“Heard Hyunjin’s busy all day running around doing pointless shit for teachers like a lap dog. I think it’s my turn to get a shot at you.”

(Heejin had noticed this guy around. He had liked her in their junior year. But, when she turned him down because she wasn’t interested in dating a meathead like him (also because she was dating Hansol at the time—and also starting to come to terms with her sexuality in secret), he had flipped a switch and started to push her around whenever he had the ability to. Somehow, with Hyunjin’s presence lingering around her, accompanied with Hansol when she was dating him, and her friends, he never had the right opportunity to get at her the way he wanted to. But, in an empty hallway between classes, he thinks that this is his best chance, and with the fury of a wounded ego, he wants to grab it by the neck to use it.)

His stature and the way he kept constant maintenance of his physique is a danger to Heejin and she can’t help how she backs away from him when he steps closer to her. Alone, she knew she couldn’t fight him, her voice lodged in her throat. Frantically looking around her, looking for anyone who could help her, the storming of Hyunjin’s footsteps calms her heart and eases her fears. (Even at their current confusing relationship, Hyunjin would come to keep her safe. She’s infallible.)

Pulling him by the back of his jacket and pushing him against the other side of the lockers, Hyunjin’s eyes burn with anger and her voice is low and threatening.

“Don’t fucking touch her.”

He rubs the back of his head to soothe the dull ache that comes from the harsh contact with the mental doors of the lockers. Almost petulantly, he whines, “But, you do this shit all of the time!”

Hyunjin pushes him further into them and her words are saturated in poison, “Yeah! I do this and I’ve never raised my fist at her. Only I get to fuck with her.”

“Why the hell is it exclusive to you?”

“Because I know how to hurt her. I know all of the right things to say, to do. And you’re not me—no one can hurt her the way I can because they’re not me.”

(And it’s true. Hyunjin knows Heejin’s greatest fear and she could have used it against her to hurt her, but still, she hasn’t exploited it. (Her jabs, for the most part, had been grossly superficial and annoying at the most on a technical level.) A large part of Heejin trusts that she wouldn’t. No matter how cold and harsh Hyunjin was with her, she knew that the girl wasn’t heartless enough to out her, especially with how they were fairing these days.)

When Hyunjin leaves her last warning for the boy, all of the pain, misery, exhaustion, resentment, and confusion piled up in Heejin leads her to grabbing the girl’s hand and pulling her through the hallway and into an empty classroom.

(Heejin remembers the last time she held her hand before prom night. It had been the night that set forth the horrific chain of events that never seemed to have stopped causing them grief.

Fighting Hyunjin is exhausting. Pretending to hate her and seeing the conflict in the girl’s eyes after jabbing words at her is a toll to endure. Heejin knows Hyunjin—knows that the pointed words she said in the past had no merit and were empty shells of language. Living with her and growing up with Hyunjin’s heart taking care of hers for nearly almost eleven years has taught her enough of stability and loyalty for Heejin to know that Hyunjin couldn’t flip a switch in her behavior as quickly as she did. Hyunjin acts with strategy and purpose, her years of active participation in sports and her competitive nature enhancing her thought processes. If Hyunjin had truly stopped caring for her, she would have left her alone. Heejin just couldn’t fathom why she chose to stay.)

“Why did you stand up for me? You have had a go at me every day for the last two years. I don’t understand why you stopped him from hurting me.”

"I didn't want him to hurt you. And I know it's so hypocritical because I do that. But, seeing his fist raised like that, I couldn't just let that shit slide. I've never raised a hand at you and I never planned on hurting you like that.”

“Then why do you hurt me? You said you almost loved me at some point! Couldn’t you just leave me alone and go on with your life?”

Hyunjin shakes her head before running her hands through her hair.

“I couldn’t leave you alone. Because that means I’d be indifferent to you. And that’s the one thing I could never be if it concerns you. I could never pretend I don’t care about you because I think I always will. It’s just, in the mess of everything, how I cared for you turned into this sick and warped need to have your attention—I craved for it because I knew you wouldn’t be my friend. You had so much shit suffocating you, and for the first time, I couldn’t get to you. So, I did something out of stupid desperation—I had to get you to hate me and talk back to me so that you wouldn’t ignore me like a complete stranger. It- it hurt me so much to have you walk by without even acknowledging me. Especially because I knew you liked me and you knew I liked you back, equally as much. And I know it’s immature and stupid and childish and that I hurt you. But, it grew into something I couldn’t control because I was too young and dense to see that I was giving you pain and it spiraled so badly that I didn't know how to stop. Everything manifested in a way that it shouldn’t have and I’m sorry that I didn’t have the will to leave you when I should have. I’m sorry that I hurt you when you trusted me to keep you safe or even if you didn’t at all. For everything that I have done to make you think that I don’t care for you, I would get on my hands and knees to plead for your forgiveness. But, I know I don’t deserve your grace, Heejin. So, I think the best thing I could do, for you and for me, is to do what I should have done years ago, and leave you alone.”

Heejin knows it means letting go—finally letting her go. But, Heejin doesn’t want her to let go. Because Hyunjin’s right. The words she said in the past—the things she did—they would have never been enough to even dent her heart. But, because it was her, they did. Heejin sees it in her pleading, sees the truth of Hyunjin’s heart. It still feels the same way as it did when they were younger. But, this time, it’s clouded with despair and desperation, an ache to barely scrape by in Heejin’s life.

(If Heejin had it her way, they would have never hurt each other the way that they have.)

Hyunjin loves her, still, but it’s not the same—not as innocent and reckless and naive. They both need to do their fair share of growing and healing to compensate for all of the years that passed by when they were stuck on each other.

“Will you come back to me?”

Hyunjin can barely look Heejin in her eyes. As well as Hyunjin could read Heejin’s, so could she for hers.

“When I get better, learn how to control my toxicity, and grow, if you’ll allow me to, I’ll come crawling back again.”

Before Hyunjin turns away from her, Heejin knows that she has to say this and feels in her heart that she needs to get her words out to feel peace, “Hyunjin?”

The girl looks back at her and Heejin can see that her eyes are slowly coming back to life.

“I hurt you too and I am so sorry for that. You gave me a world of chances to keep you safe and I was too scared to do anything. So I just watched your soul shrivel up and your heart turn to black because of me and I didn’t do anything to stop it or change. I shouldn’t have been with Hansol for the main purpose of it being to hurt you. I should have told you junior year that I was starting to accept myself for who I am. You should have been the first person I came out to, even if you already knew. I shouldn’t have kissed some girl at some party to make myself feel better. You should have been her because I only ever wanted to kiss you anyway. I should have been honest with myself, braver—and I should have been honest with you, braver for you. Because if I really loved you, I should have done whatever it took to appreciate you. And I didn’t. But, I want to. I want to do better. I want to be better. For myself, for you. I don’t want to be an empty basin of meaningless apologies. I want to be good enough to love you the way you deserve. I’ll find the girl who loved you in preschool. She wasn’t afraid then and I won’t be later on when I come back again to you.”

In the classroom where Heejin and Hyunjin learned about Scripture in their freshman year, the weight of the last tumultuous years lifts and it feels like finally being able to breathe after being muffled by the weight of a trillion bricks. Hyunjin’s smile reaches her eyes and it’s the first time Heejin has seen it directed to her in years. It feels so good to be the one receiving it—it’s like the sun shining through after the storm God sent for Noah. It rings peace after the destructive wiping of the bad and symbolizes the renewal of life. Heejin won’t take for granted of this.

“I’ll meet you halfway there, Heekkie.”

They will come back to each other better people than they are in this moment. And when they come back, their hearts will be ready to love again—to be vulnerable again, but also, strong enough to protect the other through it all.

~

AGE NINETEEN

The next time Hyunjin sees Heejin, it’s the summer break after her first year of college. She had gotten accepted to a university outside of her city, but, she was back to visit her family. Her mother had been ecstatic that both of her children were finally home and in her care. (It showed in the buffet of food she cooked for their arrival and Sooyoung bringing Jinsol along with her feels even more like coming home.)

She had been at the dog park walking Hyejoo’s dog with Sooyoung, Jinsol, Chaewon, and Hyejoo. (It had been incredible to see how the last two friends have grown. Five years since meeting them, it’s almost mind-boggling to see how Hyejoo sprouts with height while Chaewon slowly grows on like a babbling brook. Jinsol teases Chaewon about it and her whiny voice is just the same as it was five years ago.) Walking past a girl who seemed to be crying, Hyunjin almost halts and screeches like her tires do when she breaks especially hard. The girl had looked eerily like Heejin. Handing Hyejoo the leash and silently urging her company to go on, Hyunjin takes a second glance.

It feels a lot like the first time she met Heejin. (Almost strangers at this point, but, too tied to their memories to start anew, Hyunjin thinks that this is where their cycle starts again. She promises to not screw things up the way she did in the past.) It’s the same confusion as to why the girl was crying, the same want to stop the tears that fall and roll away. Sitting beside her on the bench with a gap between their shoulders and her hands clasped in her lap, Hyunjin thinks about tugging on her shirt—the same way she did when she was four—but, thinks twice. Things have changed since preschool and tugging on a crying woman’s shirt as a grown up without warning or consent is an immediate alarm ringer and an intrusion of boundaries. And plus, Hyunjin didn’t want to startle her.

“How is it that I keep meeting you like this, Heejin?”

Heejin knows that voice anywhere. She couldn’t possibly forget the voice of the person that she treasures most.

(She was crying for very real and substantial reasons, but, the sound of Hyunjin’s voice—the slight lilt to it—and her very presence is enough to bring a teary smile to her lips.)

Heejin laughs and she wipes her tears away, only for it to be futile because they keep coming. Bouncing back after coming out to her mother, being kicked out, and stripped barren of pretty much most of her possessions is not necessarily the easiest thing to do.

Heejin tugs at Hyunjin’s shirt to bring her closer. It feels a bit like déjà vu. When the other girl moves closer, Heejin lies her head on her shoulder. When Hyunjin blooms the fingers of her hand like the petals of flowers do, Heejin takes her sign of comfort with the both of her hands and laces their fingers together.

(Hyunjin still grounds her like nothing else ever could. It’s astounding that no matter how much time has passed that that remains the same.)

“I came out to my mom.”

Heejin can feel how Hyunjin stiffens the slightest and how her hand squeezes hers.

“She kicked me out. She was kind enough to give me a day to figure my shit out. Stopped investing in my education, too, but, that’s not surprising to me. I guess, none of this is surprising to me, except for the fact that she actually gave me time to collect my stuff and go. I don’t- I don’t really know why I’m crying so much since I’ve been preparing myself for this since graduation. I knew she wouldn’t accept it—accept me.”

Hyunjin tickles the other girl’s arm that is between their bodies. It’s soothing and it helps to bring Heejin down.

“It’s still disappointing. I know you really love and admire her a lot. I think the good part of your heart that hopes and believes is still just as strong-willed as before. Maybe you have different values now, but, I think you had hope that she would love you back.”

Heejin closes her eyes because Hyunjin reads her in all of the right ways.

Her mother had been the first person to teach her what love felt like. While it was conditional, as Heejin sees now, it was still love. Her mother had invested in to all of her schooling for her benefit, strove to enforce Catholicism on Heejin to give her a foundation on morals, and did what she thought was best. Except, what she thought was best was only best for her and not for her daughter. It’s hard accepting the truth, but, Heejin thinks she knew it long before she even came out.

She knew she could never be the daughter her mother wanted her to be. It was an earth-shattering thought for her to have. It terrified her more than the biblical sayings of damnation and sin. Heejin wonders if she feared the Bible less than she feared her mother—wonders if her dedication to making her mother proud and her fear of disappointing her was what fueled her internalized homophobia. (She didn’t even begin to learn the name of her self-hatred and the facts of it until one of her classes at college. It’s nice to have names for the problems she had. Heejin thinks that if she had the names for them sooner, she wouldn’t have been so fucking terrified and wouldn’t have hurt the people she loved—and still loves—as much as she did.)

“Was I dumb to have hope in her?”

Hyunjin kisses the top of her head because it feels right to. (It comforts Heejin the way it always did in the past).

“I think you were really brave to have hope in something and someone so hopeless. It’s one of the things that I love most about you. You’re relentless, no matter if you’re hurt or will be hurt. I mean, look at how you’ve grown, Heekkie. I think you’re incredible.”

Heejin smiles and it feels like the universe is falling into the same steps she takes. Things are starting to feel the way it should, like the stars are starting to realign.

“Have you grown?”

“Physically? No. But, I don’t feel as resentful or sad or as horrible as I used to. I have my bad days, but, they’re far and in between. I have really good days sometimes, but, my days are overwhelmingly good. I’m content. I think it’s only up from here on out.”

(It relieves Heejin to no end to hear the breeziness in Hyunjin’s voice; their time apart has done them well.)

Hyunjin continues on, her fingers tracing Heejin’s name on her arm, “I still miss you though. Maybe not all of the time, and sometimes not awfully, but, every day, somehow, something will remind me of you and I think of you and miss you—even if it’s a little bit.”

Hyunjin pauses and she treads lightly, “Did you miss me?”

The smile on Heejin’s lips grows because Hyunjin shouldn’t even have to ask; of course she missed her. She missed everything about her: Hyunjin’s smile, her eyes, the sound of her laugh, her teasings, her constant presence, the way she keeps her safe. Nuzzling into her, Heejin feels at peace again—truly and genuinely at peace, unbothered by the harshness of the world.

“So much, Hyunjin. Almost unbearably.”

“But, you bore it.”

“Because you’re worth the ache of missing.”

Lifting Heejin’s head from her shoulder and thumbing away the tears that had trickled, Hyunjin pauses at the two moles and smiles. They’re just as endearing as before. She is just as in love as before. The way she gently cups Heejin’s face and the way her eyes scan at her features makes her feel breathless, like porcelain in the best way possible.

She feels safe with her.

Maybe it’s too soon and rushed, but, Hyunjin’s thumb brushes against Heejin’s lips and it’s not just Heejin’s presence she has missed—she has been missing the feeling of her lips on hers for years she doesn’t care to count.

“I want to kiss you, but, it feels too fast.”

Heejin nods, caught as well in the same feeling of missing Hyunjin.

“I think we can allow ourselves this one once and let it replace the memory of the last one that hurt us.”

Hyunjin mumbles against her lips and it feels like magnets pulling them together, “Just this once.”

Heejin flutters her eyes closed and she can’t help how the corner of her lips lift, “And you’ll protect me after?”

Feeling breathless, senses coated by the intimacy between them, Hyunjin can only mumble, “When I wasn’t being an ass, didn’t I always?”

And Heejin kisses her because it’s true.

(It’s the barking of Hyejoo’s dog that pulls them away. The close arrival of Sooyoung, Jinsol, Chaewon, and Hyejoo gives joy to Heejin’s heart. Sooyoung welcomes her as if she hadn’t put her sister through a wringer of pain and torment and it makes her feel the warm validation of being accepted. Everything about Hyunjin, even her own family and home, felt like her own comfort to rely on.)

Whenever she was protecting Hyunjin, she kept her safe too, like a cycle of mutual respect and love.

When they weren’t being kind to each other, when they stopped protecting each other, neither were each other’s comfort and then they were both grasping on the threads of their tether to hold them together instead. (In a way, in their years of conflict and hurting each other, they were only using each other as dingy futons to sleep on while their beds were torn and ripped and beyond use.)

Now, with Hyunjin’s arms around her, she’s her comfort and safety—her bed to fall into after a tough day.

She doesn’t ever want to leave her bed the same way she doesn’t ever want to leave Hyunjin.

Every day, they’ll have each other to rely on.

It’s the greatest comfort to have.

Hyunjin is her safety.

She’s hers too.

Like an endless loving cycle, they too, will come back again.