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What’s the point of living?
It’s the same question he’s asked himself thousands of times, every day, every month, every year, waiting for an answer he may never find.
The feelings in his chest churn restlessly, indistinguishable from one another, until instead of feeling, there’s only emptiness—an endless void.
He has nothing left.
He feels nothing.
So then… what’s the point?
There’s no purpose to keep going. He doesn’t even know what to do with his life. He’s tried everything, but nothing sparks his interest, and the few things that do are out of reach.
He doesn’t look for culprits—he knows who they are. And though he’s responsible for his life now, the decisions he was forced to make in the past, without guidance or support, weigh heavily on him today. He blames his parents for never being there when he needed them, for neglecting him. To them, Jisung was just another mouth to feed, nothing more. They never truly cared how he felt, or if he was drowning in something dark.
He was alone, his head filled with destructive thoughts. Now, he sits at the edge of the bridge, feet dangling in the air, swaying slowly. A light breeze ruffles his hair, while peace surrounds him in the rustling of leaves, the calls of birds returning to their nests, the flow of water beneath interrupted by the song of crickets and the croak of a frog.
Jisung thinks that once he slips into the water, everything will be over.
No more noise.
No more mockery.
No more emptiness.
He’s weighed the reasons to stay countless times. He knows his choice would hurt his family, but isn’t it painful to go on suffering just so others won’t feel pain? Maybe this is the only way to make them see how much he’s been hurting.
His older brother… maybe he’d understand. He wouldn’t complain, only regret not being a better sibling. His younger sister, though, would notice his absence. She spends almost all her time with him.
He’s living a life he doesn’t want. He loves the people around him, but he’s exhausted—of the mental noise, of being misunderstood, of struggling to fit into a world that doesn’t feel like his. No matter how hard he tries to live a “happy” life, he can’t, because happiness hasn’t visited him in a very long time.
Jisung looks at the little silk plushie his sister made for him. He remembers her words clearly
“Hanji, can we eat pizza for dinner today? Mom and Dad went on a trip, so we can do whatever we want, muhehehe. Oh right look, I made this in art class!”
“The teacher asked who it reminded me of, and I said my big brother because sometimes you look like a cute hamster.”
The uneven stitches and the stuffing poking out bring that day vividly back. He had laughed, making her pout at his reaction, but he carried that little toy everywhere afterward. It helped calm his anxiety in crowded places.
Now, a few drops stain the stitched eyes of the hamster. He realizes he’s crying. His chest tightens, sobs spilling out in painful, uneven gasps. His throat burns, his head pounds, his heart slams against his ribs.
In the distance, he hears the familiar chime of a bicycle bell. He doesn’t even try to hide his state anymore. Something clatters to the ground, and he turns—there he is. Just as beautiful as the day they first met.
As the figure runs closer, Jisung can read it all on his face—fear, desperation, and relief.
Hyunjin looks so different now, with shorter hair streaked with red that makes him even more striking. He rushes over, pulls Jisung into his arms, lifting him down from the ledge and settling on the ground without letting go.
Alarm flashes in Hyunjin’s eyes when he hears Jisung’s broken sobs. He takes his hands, stroking them, trying to lend him a calm neither of them really has.
Minutes pass before Hyunjin finally speaks, his voice hoarse.
— I thought I lost you. When you didn’t answer my messages or calls, I thought I’d die… Forgive me for imagining the worst.
Jisung feels guilt for making him cry, but warmth blooms in his chest. Someone cared enough to come searching for him. He leans his forehead against Hyunjin’s, and they sit in silence, letting their tears speak for them both. At last, Jisung whispers:
— I’m so tired, Jinnie. I can’t do this anymore. - He closes his eyes, as if to stop the tears, but Hyunjin only tightens the embrace. - I just want it to stop. I don’t want to live like this anymore.-
He buries his face in Hyunjin’s shoulder, clutching his neck as he cries. The familiar scent of Hyunjin’s cologne washes over him, more comforting than even his sister’s little toy.
Since high school, they had been inseparable. Jisung doesn’t even remember when they became more than friends—Hyunjin never asked, it just happened. From the moment Hyunjin appeared, everything changed. The bullying lessened, someone finally listened to his rants and tears. But never—not once—had Hyunjin seen him this broken. Somehow, Hyunjin always found a way to make him smile, and that meant more to Jisung than words could say.
Hyunjin cups his face, brushing away the tears, smoothing his messy hair, caressing the chubby cheeks he adores. Jisung opens his eyes, meeting Hyunjin’s bright, lively gaze.
— I’ll be your strength every time you feel like you can’t go on -
Hyunjin peppers his face with kisses—on his nose, his cheeks, his forehead—before finally pressing his lips to Jisung’s.
The kiss is slow, full of emotions Jisung can’t even name. But his chest stirs again, no longer so cold. This time his tears fall from fear—not fear of dying, but of living and losing his way. Because without Hyunjin, he wouldn’t have made it this far. For the first time, he doesn’t want to leave. For the first time, he rejects the idea of dying.
They kiss again and again, until Jisung is sitting comfortably in Hyunjin’s lap, both of them watching the cold village sunset. Somewhere, families must be preparing hot chocolate or coffee to warm the evening.
— I love you. -
The words slip out of Jisung’s mouth for the first time in years of dating. He doesn’t force them; he just feels the need to say them. And somehow, the emptiness inside begins to fill.
It took years, and tonight he was closer to death than ever before. But now, Jisung finally has a reason to live.
YEARS LATER
A cool October breeze drifts into the room, moving the white curtains and flooding the space with sunset light. Jisung sits at his desk, staring idly at the window that looks out on the garden. The birdbath stands empty, as it always has, and that makes him a little sad. He had hoped at least a pigeon would come by someday.
With a resigned sigh, he snaps his laptop shut, stretches, and heads toward the kitchen. His watch tells him it’s time for a snack.
The house is strangely quiet. He wanders through the playroom on the lower floor, finds no one. Checks Hyunjin’s art studio—empty. The living room has only some of Hyunjin’s painting supplies scattered about.
Finally, in the kitchen, he finds two half-eaten sandwiches. Confused, he looks around—until a muffled shout from the backyard sends him rushing outside.
There they are—two figures crouched on the ground, watching something intently.
— No, don’t move it Dad, it’ll get scared!- A child’s voice protests in a whisper. Hyunjin just chuckles. — It’s okay. It’s strong, just like mommy Hanji. -
Jisung breathes in relief. Nothing’s wrong—it’s just his husband and their son, probably hunting worms again to feed the duck.
— If it survives, daddy Han will be really happy, don’t you think, pulga? - Hyunjin asks, standing and brushing the dirt from his pants.
Jisung lingers, watching them, not wanting to interrupt. Warmth spreads through his chest until his eyes sting.
Happiness.
Lately, he’s been feeling sentimental, nostalgic. Maybe it’s the season, the trees, the autumn air or his hormones. It takes him back to darker memories—but not as torment. As reminders of how far he’s come. Proof of who he was, and who he is now. He’s proud of himself; only he knows the battles he fought in his mind. The relapses, the nights he almost gave up—all just echoes now.
Because now, he has a reason to stay.
Well... two reasons. Soon to be three.
And back then, when he wasn’t sure this reason would be enough, he chose to stay anyway.
His younger self looks at him from the depths of memory with hopeful eyes.
- I’m doing okay, right?”
“You’re doing amazing, Jisung
- Even if it rains every day, I’ll bloom. I stayed, right?
You did.
- Then everything’s okay.
I’ll always be here.
- Thank you for staying.
Thank you for making me stay.
Little arms wrap around him, pulling him back to the present. He kneels to his son’s height, ruffles his hair, earning a dimpled laugh.
— Hey, you - Jisung whispers, poking his cheek. - Want a bath after wrestling worms? - He taps his nose, and the boy quickly shakes his head.
— Hi, Ma. dad and I found this hummingbird! - Innie shows him the tiny bird cupped in his hands, one wing bent. It must be fractured, but still alive. Jisung gasps softly.
— mummy, can you make it survive? - Innie asks. Jisung looks up at Hyunjin, who stands smiling, arms crossed.
— We’ll try, puppy - Jisung kisses their son’s cheek. - Take it inside we’ll see what we can do - The kid nods eagerly and runs into the house.
Jisung stands, and Hyunjin’s arms immediately circle his waist. Their foreheads meet.
— You look sad - Hyunjin murmurs.
— I’m fine. Just hormones acting up fot the baby - Jisung smiles faintly, earning a kiss on the nose. - Jinnie? - He hides against Hyunjin’s chest, clinging tightly.
— Yes, my love?
— Thank you for making me stay. I love you.
— I love you more, my love.
A hummingbird’s arrival at a home means love and peace dwell there.