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It’s been said that exhaustion is natural as a relationship goes on for years.
There’s sweetness at first, with the way effort drips from the words laced with care and the gifts filled with intent. The consistency of it all, even when only for a few moments, is simply what seals the deal. Patience is also present in the picture. More thoughts for creating a solution rather than a temporary quick fix.
So what’s with the burnouts?
Seoyeon’s circumstances aren’t exactly the most undesirable. There’s a list of differences.
To start, Yooyeon is consistent with the gifts. It’s always lavish, something that ends with guilt nagging at Seoyeon as the costly present she receives far exceeds what she should have gotten if this were to be a mutual and beneficial transaction Yooyeon used to ease her worries.
She would constantly remind Seoyeon that gifts aren’t to be reduced to their prices but rather, to their intentions. She would talk of how, as long as Seoyeon got the message with each gift, then everything was perfect. Seoyeon relished the way that her words used to engulf her with warmth, like a blanket of comfort.
Because gifts can only do so much.
Seoyeon goes over the possible correlation of the familiarity that the years of a relationship bring and the eventual inconsistencies along with it that seem to plague numerous couples, of how being used to each other leads to a decline in effort.
It was never about the gifts. Seoyeon could give less of a damn about it all if they weren’t given by Yooyeon.
Her disappointment lay elsewhere.
It was in the way that they saw less and less of the other, be it physical or something else. It was how Yooyeon was content with using gifts as a means to an end to solve their problems. Most of all, it was the way Seoyeon stood alone when it came to facing their parents. Against the comments about what they have being ‘abnormal’ , against their constant attempts to set the two up with other people, and against the upfront rejection they are constantly given whenever they are with each other for even as much as a moment.
Seoyeon was aware of Yooyeon’s priorities, of her thirst to be what everyone else already thought of her: perfect . Yooyeon believed that doing what she’s told, and doing it all beyond excellent, would show everybody that she had made something of herself. That a child taken from the streets was worth every bit of the resources poured into her.
And Seoyeon was by her side—knew of the weight it had on Yooyeon’s shoulders. She made it her duty to support Yooyeon as much as she could.
This is where it starts to hurt.
Because now Seoyeon looks like she’s asking for too much, and she hates the way she feels small about it. Hates the way that she could be gone at any second, and nothing would change—that her absence doesn’t mean shit.
Her mind keeps on screaming at her that it’s a selfish thought, more so when their parents’ disapproval is added to the picture. But who was she to stay still when, as time goes on, the disdain for what they have grows more evident?
They’ve talked about it, or at least, they tried to. The nights always became longer whenever they did, and with it, the pang on Seoyeon’s chest gnawed with each word exchanged.
Seoyeon only retaliated more with each comment that was directed at their relationship. In sharp contrast, Yooyeon was quiet. As if a simple foot down against their parents’ opposition was taxing. As if she and Seoyeon were okay with it, and heaven knows that both of them were not okay at all. As if ‘they’ didn’t mean anything at all.
Seoyeon could only hope that a cure would be found in time, and Yooyeon thought the same.
But each day that passed became a repetition of what the day before was, and the gradual nature of the change did nothing much to hide how the rocky state of their relationship now juxtaposed the firmness of their past dynamics.
Yooyeon would always act as if not a single one of their conversations ever occurred the night before. She wanted everything to seem okay, even when she and Seoyeon both knew that it wasn’t the case. She was prepared to stay this way for the rest of her life, always ready to shine in her performance of a perfect son, trapped in a cycle of constant display. Yooyeon may have been used to this, but Seoyeon certainly wasn’t, and she wouldn’t let herself.
“Then maybe we should just stop.” It was a statement fueled by impulse, one that Seoyeon, whose chest is heaving too much for her liking after yelling the words out, is about to take back. It’s a suggestion that’s not even filled with half the amount of false bravado it should have.
“Okay.”
Seoyeon would laugh if it weren’t for the lump stuck in her throat as Yooyeon’s answer drags the remaining composure that Seoyeon had.
“ Okay ? That’s it?” She wasn’t even worth a proper reply.
Yooyeon stares, and Seoyeon points an accusing finger. “Did you wait for this? Did you wait for someone else to end what you started?”
The frown on Seoyeon’s face deepens, eyes staring widely at Yooyeon’s, wishing she would just do something or at least say a mere single word.
This was stupid.
“For fuck’s sake, is it so hard to fight for us?” She’s not begging at all, but with the way her voice quivers with every statement, if someone saw her in this state right now, they would surely mistake her for doing so.
Yooyeon must’ve not been able to take in the sight of her, because the next thing she knows, Yooyeon’s arms engulf her in a tight embrace. They stay that way for a while.
And as the silence went on, for a moment, Seoyeon thought everything would just disappear, that this was all a dream and at any moment he would wake up. That Yooyeon would speak a string of assurances and all’s well that ends well. Their happily ever after would then come to save the day.
“I knew you’d say this one day,” Yooyeon whispers, and Seoyeon doesn’t say anything, even as the statement makes her go through a flurry of emotions.
When Seoyeon breaks free from the hug and steps back, all she sees is a smile on Yooyeon’s face, devoid of any emotion that he could scavenge thanks to the years of refinement that Yooyeon spent on perfecting her smile to the point of it being akin to a robot’s.
Maybe it was that stupid robotic smile, or maybe it was the way that the implications of Yooyeon’s assumption felt too far off from reality that the truth of Seoyeon’s feelings bore.
One thing is clear: it picked at Seoyeon’s heart in a way she feels she’ll never forget .