Work Text:
The Art of Loving Someone
𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸
by lilsaltbread
Don’t ask me what it feels like to quietly suffer from loving someone for so long, a love that can’t be shown openly, can’t be suddenly declared, and can’t be easily confessed face-to-face, all while hoping they might feel the same.
Don’t ask. It’s stifling, it’s painful, especially when the reason for hiding those feelings is to avoid ruining what already exists or becoming a third wheel between two people already in love.
But my pain isn’t that bad, I’m still standing. My world hasn’t shattered the way his has.
He was there when I was falling apart, his broad shoulder blocking the midday sun, his smile comforting even though it wasn’t a full smile. Now, that smile is gone, lost long ago, and no one knows how to bring it back. Only he holds that key. Yet those around him, including me, won’t push him to smile again.
Why smile if his world has crumbled?
What is there to smile about when the center of his world has stopped shining?
Why smile when sorrow wraps around his heart?
The pain of my unspoken love is nothing compared to his grief over the loss of his love.
Allow me to tell the story of your sorrow, of the pure, selfless love that left a red stain on the pages of that sacred love, marked by a loss you could never have imagined.
𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸
He is Jeon Wonwoo.
My first love, my love at first sight.
His broad shoulders, noticeable even back in high school, shielded me from the scorching sun right after I was beaten up a group of students from a nearby school who tried to take my money. He pressed a cold bottle of water, freshly bought from a convenience store, to my injured lip and tied his necktie around my knuckles, which were bleeding from fighting back against the gang that robbed me. His name was Wonwoo, Wonwoo Jeon, or Jeon Wonwoo, but soon he’d just be “Won” or “Wonu” to me.
Wonwoo’s smile that day was a small, gentle smile, yet it was enough to calm me. Maybe it was just the relief of finally being helped, or maybe, truthfully, my heart had already fallen for that smile.
From our high school days onward, our friendship kept growing and deepening. And eventually, I realized I had fallen in love with Jeon Wonwoo. But my love alone wasn’t enough to make him give his heart to me, that heart already found its home with someone else, Choi Seungcheol, a man without flaws. A man who, in time, would care for, love, and protect Wonwoo with his whole heart, truly, until death separated them, until God decided that Choi Seungcheol’s time was over.
Seungcheol was diagnosed with leukemia after returning from his master’s studies in Germany, where he had studied International Politics. He dreamed of taking Wonwoo away from their homeland to live freely in Europe, a place where they wouldn’t face judgmental stares when they showed their love in public. The world still hasn’t been fair or kind to people who just want to love and be loved.
Wonwoo and Seungcheol started dating in Wonwoo’s first year of college. They met at a department retreat, where Seungcheol, a friend of one of Wonwoo’s seniors, had joined the event. Their first meeting was easy, but reaching to the stage of dating was filled with challenges and obstacle. Seungcheol was bold, fearless and undeterred by people’s gossip, criticism and insults, persistently pursuing Wonwoo. Wonwoo, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly shy or lacking confidence, he just tended to overthink. In his mind, he was constantly analyzing variables to find the most “right” decision.
“But sometimes love only requires one thing, Won.”
“And what is that one thing?”
“If you both feel the same, that’s enough of a reason to be together.”
“Is it really that simple?”
“As long as you both feel the same.”
That conversation marked the beginning of my journey to let go of Wonwoo and accept his relationship with Seungcheol.
Did I still hold on to a small hope that maybe, one day, Wonwoo would break up with Seungcheol? Honestly, yes. Selfishness and envy lingered in me, because in the end, I’m only human. There were times, especially when they argued, maybe because Seungcheol was absorbed in his research or because Wonwoo was hard to reach while gaming, a tiny part of me wished they’d go their separate ways. But when I looked into Wonwoo’s eyes, even when he was angry with Seungcheol, I could see an even greater love behind his frustration.
Seungcheol was the one who looked after Wonwoo, the one who made him believe that a happy ending was possible for those who simply wanted to love and be loved. With Seungcheol, Wonwoo spent his youth, he dreamed of a future.
And me? I was just a small part of Wonwoo’s life.
“You’re truly my best friend, Mingyu”
Best friend. That’s what he called me.
𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸
I stub out my cigarette and head to the house I’ve been visiting every day for three months now, regardless of the hour. Even with the snow falling this hard, with my nose turning red and my coat pockets stuffed with hot packs, I still make my way to this place. A white house with soft brown trim, the one Seungcheol bought after selling his late father’s antique car before leaving Korea to study for his master’s degree. Now, only Wonwoo lives there, the house he won’t share, and he falls asleep each night on Seungcheol’s office couch.
“Hey”
“Hey, you’re here”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yeah, I ordered jajangmyeon earlier”
“Sounds good”
“It was, sort of”
I don’t know exactly how people get through grief, I just know there’s no right or wrong way to do it.
Grieving is something each person does in their own way. I once read a story about a mother who lost her child moments after giving birth. People around her thought she’d gone mad because she was always screaming, angry, adn throwing tantrum. They took her to a psychologist, hoping her madness could be healed. Her husband then took her away from their country to a place without those haunting memories, hoping they could find happiness again. In this new place, he took her to a psychologist too, this time not because she was crazy but because he knew, he knew very well that his wife needed someone who could truly understand her pain. The psychologist just sat in silence, offering her a box of tissues, putting down his notes and pen.
“You’re not crazy, you’re grieving. No one can understand the pain of a mother who loses her child”
It was a reminder that grief can make you act like a completely different person than you were before.
I thought, after losing Seungcheol, Wonwoo would be in tears constantly over him. But he wasn’t. Wonwoo opened up about how he handled his grief one day, ten days after Seungcheol’s passing, while he were making ginger cookies, Seungcheol’s favorite and the only thing he could make.
“After I buried Seungcheol and came back to this house, I just sat in silence”
I also went silence, listening to his story.
“I came home, sat on that sofa, looked at the lights from Namsan Tower. I didn’t cry, but that doesn’t mean I’m not grieving or sad. Crying won’t bring him back, Mingyu. I make cookies, not because I want or crave them, but because it’s my way of remembering what he loved. I play our vacation videos to keep the sound of his voice alive. If remembering him means grieving, then I’ll grieve for the rest of my life, Mingyu. Because my heart left with him when he closed his eyes for the last time”
Wonwoo, if you’re going to grieve for the rest of your life, then I’ll surrender and let go of my love for you.
𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸
“If I die, no, I surely will die”
“Hyung”
“Everything will be left to Wonwoo. Whatever he chooses, respect it, ok Mingyu?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know you love Wonwoo. High school friendships are the perfect time for falling in love, am I right? Oh wait, hey Mingyu, did I steal Wonwoo from you?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“After I’m gone, I die, I need you to take care of Wonwoo, Mingyu. I bought that house for him, it’s warmer there than your place, and we both know Wonwoo hates the cold. If you love him, and someday he loves you back, then you have my blessing. But everything rests in what Wonwoo wants, ok? Just because you have my blessing, it doesn’t mean you should force him. If you do, I’ll haunt you every night”
“Can it happen, hyung?”
“What?”
“Wonwoo loves me”
Hey, Choi Seungcheol, don’t come to haunt me in my dreams. Wonwoo will always choose you, and I could never force him otherwise.
𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸
“I bought a house”
“What did you buy?”
“A house, in Switzerland”
“Switzerland?”
Outside, a snowstorm raged while Wonwoo sipped his hot chocolate, nearly buried beneath a thick blanket. He stared at the coffee table with a vacant look, yet he still managed to respond to me normally.
“Seungcheol once said that he wanted to start a new life with me in Europe. At first, I thought about buying a small house in Belgium with his life insurance money, near his school, but then I remember that once he told me that Belgium wasn’t where he wanted to begin again with me”
"And that place is Switzerland?"
"Yes, he wanted to live in Switzerland, in a small house by a lake, where he would ride a bike to buy groceries, with a fountain springing from the gaps in the massive rocks, vast meadows, simple work that would provide for us both, and neighbors who wouldn’t look at us like we were odd"
"But you’re not odd, Wonwoo"
"I never said I was, Mingyu. I’m leaving on New Year’s Eve"
"In a month? And you’re just telling me now? Wonwoo, seriously?"
Without realizing it, I started to cry, my voice raised in frustration.
I thought, I thought… even if Wonwoo could never love me as I loved him, at least he would always be near. It would be easy to find him, to see him, to keep him safe. But now, he was choosing to go far away from me.
"I know, Mingyu"
What do you know, Wonwoo?
Wonwoo, wrapped in his thick blanket, moved closer to me, resting his head on my lap, his cold hand grasping mine.
Wonwoo, it’s cold here , how will it be there?
"I know what your gaze has meant to me all this time."
What?
"You love me."
What? How? How do you know?
"The way you look at me is just like the way I look at Seungcheol, full of love."
Wonwoo began to close his eyes, and tears that I hadn’t seen in a long time trickled onto the back of my hand. He was crying again, four months after Seungcheol’s death.
"I know very well that gaze, gaze filled with love and affection, with a sense of sincerity behind it. The way you look at me is the same as how I looked at Seungcheol, and that’s enough for me to know you love me. I’m so grateful for that love, Mingyu. I don’t know when you started feeling that way or hiding it, but thank you for your love, it makes me feel less lonely. But I also need to apologize. I can’t return those feelings. My love belongs to Seungcheol, and it always will. My leaving is also a way for you to start your life without the variable of Jeon Wonwoo in it."
"Mingyu..."
What else?
"Thank you, and I’m sorry."
Isn’t it funny, Wonwoo? Even at the end of my love story, I couldn’t say it directly to you. You stripped my feelings bare because you know exactly how it feels to love someone, making it easy for you to detect the love and feelings of others. So, I really should let you go, right, Wonwoo?
"Seungcheol asked you to look after me, didn’t he, Mingyu?"
"Yes."
"Stay with me until New Year’s Eve, okay, friend?"
"Sure."
"I’ll contact you, I’ll send you a postcard. I’ll be fine. Switzerland might be colder, but I’ll get used to it, so you need to adjust too, okay?"
"Yes… Wonwoo… yes."
I don’t know if the New Year’s fireworks will be visible from up there. I hope that if they are, Wonwoo can see them from the plane he’s on. I hope he knows he’s stepping into a new life. Becoming a stronger Wonwoo, a Wonwoo who will continue to love Seungcheol, a Wonwoo who is still the same as the one I know, a good friend.
𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸
END