Work Text:
When I was 7, I came home from school in tears after a girl told me I was going to hell. I skipped dinner that night and cried myself to sleep.
When I was 9, my mother told me I would never find love, that I was a freak of nature and that she wished I was never born. I believed her words and cried myself to sleep.
When I was 11, I told my best friend Taehyung that I didn’t fancy girls but I had a crush on Hojoon in the year above. He agreed that Hojoon was cute and we laughed about it then went back to playing card games. I went home with a smile on my face. My mum told me I didn’t deserve to be happy, she beat me until I cried then left me alone. I continued crying until I fell asleep.
The day I turned 13, I asked Hojoon out. He hit me and told me I was disgusting. I stayed over at Tae’s that night, too afraid to go home in case Hojoon’s parents told mine what had happened. I ate dinner and I didn’t cry when Tae held me as we fell asleep.
When I was 15, I was skipping meals regularly and crying myself to sleep ever night. Tae’s dad got a job in America but his mother refused to take him out of school and move across the world. His parents ended up getting a divorce. Tae stayed over at mine the night he found out, I held him as he cried himself to sleep. It took 7 years for him to speak to his dad again.
By the time I was 16, I had tried to kill myself 5 times. Each time Tae had got there just in time and saved me. My mother lost her job and started using drugs to numb her pain. My father worked late every night to support her addiction, never once trying to stop her.
At the age of 17, my mother died. She had overdosed. My dad blamed me and I blamed me too. Taehyung told me it wasn’t my fault. I stopped crying myself to sleep because I stopped sleeping. I could only sleep when I was with him.
When I was 19, Tae and I got a flat together. I was studying psychology at university and he was studying medicine. He dropped out during the second semester after his mum passed away. He got a job washing dishes at a restaurant down the road.
I was 20; he was 21. He was now head chef but I cooked him dinner every night. I didn’t know what I wanted to do when I graduated but I knew that as long as I had him I would be okay.
I was 22 when we shared our first kiss. We moved into a single bedroom apartment, we’d slept in the same bed for the past 4 years and I had long stopped crying at night.
Instead, I cried in the morning when he surprised me with breakfast in bed. I cried in the afternoon when I was at work and he sent me a text to remind me that I was loved, that I was important and that people relied on me, he relied on me. I cried at dinner when he asked me to be his. I told him I’d been his since we were 13 years old and he stopped the tears for one night. I cried happy tears. They felt warm, like his embrace.
I was 23, he was 24. It was a warm, summer night. We decided to go to the beach. I thought it was a fun, spontaneous adventure. He’d been checking the weather religiously every day to make sure nothing ruined his plans. We got to the beach and set up a picnic blanket. It was the best dinner I’d ever had. It was almost midnight and we were still sitting on our chequered blanket. I felt content, lying in my boyfriend’s arms watching the stars. He was humming an old song, I didn’t recognise it but it was the best song I’d ever heard. I felt like the happiest person in the world. When he got onto one knee and pulled out a ring and asked me to be his for the rest of our lives, I cried.
At 25 years old, I was planning my wedding to the love of my life. We’d been there to support each other throughout our darkest times and we’d been there with each other to celebrate the happiest times. I had made him cakes every time he got promoted. The day he opened his own restaurant I made macaroons. He took me to France when I graduated. We held hands as we walked around The Louvre. I told him I ‘Louvre-d’ him and he threatened to smash the Mona Lisa over my head. When his mum passed away, I did my best to support him and encouraged his decision to leave university to pursue a different career. I had told him that as long as he was happy his mother would be proud of him.
Now I am 26 years old and he is 27. Today is the day I marry my best friend. My mother told me I would never find love, little did either of us know I’d been with him since I was 5 years old and he sat next to me at lunch because I was crying. I suppose she was right; love found me.
I stand at the altar and the music starts up. We decided not to have the traditional song as in our case there is no bride. As soon as I see him, I start to cry. By the time our vows are complete, there isn’t a dry eye in the whole church. His dad sits in the front row, whereas mine sits at the back and leaves as soon as the ceremony is over. But not before telling me that my mother would be happy for me, if she was still around. Neither of us believe his words but it seems like the right thing to say. He shakes my hand, I don’t know if I’m ever going to see him again but I don’t mind. I’ve got my own family now.
At the reception, Taehyung’s dad calls me his son. He hugs me and I cry.
I am 27 years old, married to the love of my life and working 9-5 at a job I love. I don’t remember the last time I cried myself to sleep. Maybe happily ever afters do exist after all.