Then we both started to get busy.  Daesung with his promotions in Japan and me with my filmings.  Nothing changed, we still loved each other madly, but it just became harder to connect.  He was tired, I was anti-social, we were both just booked.  As much as we tried, little cracks started to show, for which I bear the burden of guilt.

I’ve never been a good multi-tasker.  I have the tendency to get super focused on one idea or one thing, and I let the rest of the world fade into a distant, grey background.  I tried my best to stay in the moment when I was with Daesung, but admittedly, I wasn’t very good at it, and we started to have tiny disagreements.

I knew, whenever we were apart, that Daesung spent a lot of time with Youngbae if he could.  They’d meet up in the studio, grab dinner or chat through text.  It was a remnant of when we were young, and Youngbae had been someone Daesung felt he could confide his fears with and hear encouragement in return.  When we were fighting, he relied on him even more.  After we made up, Daesung would tell me how Youngbae tried to make him understand what I was going through, how he needed to be patient with me, how he needed to tell me how he was feeling.  And even though I continued to feel immense gratitude towards him, somewhere, deep down, the seed of insecurity had taken root.  In my self-disgust for how I treated Daesung, I began to recognize how good Youngbae truly was, and I began to doubt if I deserved Daesung.  Youngbae was clearly the better man – always had time for Daesung, always spoke from a rational perspective and most importantly, always put Daesung’s happiness as the most important thing.  I was failing at all three; it was only a matter of time before Daesung realized it too.

Before I knew it, I had started to think of Youngbae as the ideal boyfriend – for Daesung.  I wondered when Daesung would see what I saw.  I imagined scenarios where they’d be sitting in Youngbae’s home, Daesung upset because of me, Youngbae consoling him, and Daesung would look up and just know.  Finally see that love in Youngbae’s eyes and know that he would treat him better than I had.  Then, eventually, Daesung would find a way to let me go, nicely of course, and they would take their first steps in a new relationship.  Because, even in my illogical mind, I knew enough of Youngbae to know he wouldn’t take advantage of a vulnerable Daesung or start something when I was the boyfriend.  I’d wake up, sweat-drenched and hating myself for losing him; each time, I’d vow that I’d be better.

And still, these nightmares weren’t enough to stop me from reverting to immaturity.  Losing myself in my acting so that I didn’t call him was the tip of the iceberg.  The worst was making him feel guilty for being busy – pettily not answering his late night texts, passive-aggressively thanking him for spending some time with me on his days home, and idiotically telling him that it was clear I loved him more. 

It isn’t that his success bothers me, I am so proud of all that he has accomplished.  It’s just that I miss him so much.  It’s easier for me when I’m away and have something to occupy my brain, but when I’m home and he can’t be here, the loneliness kills me.  And then I act out.  And after this time, I know I’ve reached my limit.  If Daesung forgives me, it’ll only one step towards forgiving myself.