"What happens when you were her Prince Charming, but you thought she wasn't your Cinderella?" — Anonymous   It's hard to be happy when all you've caused is pain.   It's hard to explain what they won't understand.   It's hard to show you're hurting, when the other has endured far greater.   But isn't it harder to push past the guilt, and cling on to someone who had lost themself trying to make you smile—to hang on to someone who deserves far greater than what you could ever offer?   For the past few years, I've scoured for alternative answers, and even to this day, I still wonder, about the single question that occupies my mind: how could I have returned the love of a woman, who had suffered too much by devoting her whole heart and entire being to a broken, selfish, and coward man?   || …………. ||   I felt her watch me as I stared out the window of Yoo Mi's favorite coffee shop, quietly sipping Yoo Mi's favorite drink, my gaze fixed on the falling cherry blossoms dancing in the wind against the orange sunset—also one of Yoo Mi's favorites.   For quite some time, Hyeri's eyes, pained and longing, were glued to me, unwavering. She wore a defeated expression that revealed the deafening thoughts she had kept silenced all these years. Those thoughts that gradually consumed her to almost nothing. The ones I had chosen to ignore for so long—   And the ones I was choosing to ignore again for the final time.   The venue. The drink. The view. All of these, as well as everything we've done so far today, were deliberate choices I made to make it easier for us—to make it easier for her.   Throughout our relationship and the many years before, Hyeri held on to one belief: that I was thinking of her. That without a doubt, I was thinking of Yoo Mi. Always.   I knew it broke her, but until the end, that was exactly what I wanted her to believe. That my mind never wandered. That my feelings never strayed. And that my heart—   That my heart never changed.   Until the end, I wanted her to believe that Yoo Mi was, and forever will be the only woman I could ever love.   After some time, I eventually switched the direction of my gaze to the individual in front of me, and our pair of wounded lenses met for a few seconds.   It was brief, but it was one that was long enough to make me want to reconsider my decision. One that begged me to find an alternative. One that tempted my selfish self to forgo my once in a lifetime selfless intentions.   But coming back to reality—to this impending reality I would soon face—my eyes became somber and distant.   I had already wasted too much of her time.   I couldn't waste a second more.   I couldn't afford to waiver, especially today of all days.   Wearing an expression riddled with disappointment, this person who had loved me for so long forced an adoring smile then lowered her gaze to the strawberry mousse cake sitting in front of her, untouched.   Similarly, I brought the cup of espresso to my lips and took a small sip, hoping to loosen the clamp gradually constricting my heart—yet the hot liquid spreading in my mouth then down my throat felt like nothing.   It had no smell.   No taste.   No sensation.   It gave me no relief.   And as I battled with this growing tightness in my chest, Hyeri kept her dark sorrowful lenses to the innocent dessert.   I knew she couldn’t look into my eyes without crying—nor I could I do the same.   I knew she wouldn't be able to hold back the tears—because I, too, was barely hanging on.   It had been three years since Yoo Mi passed, but her memories stayed with me. For the longest time, I treasured them as if they were the world to me, fearful that I'd lose more of myself if I didn’t—   But if I were to be honest, her memories weren't the only ones I held dear.   Memories of Hyeri's smile, her laugh, her hidden tears, and pain remained as vivid images in my head. More than anything, they occupied my thoughts, my heart, and my conscience.   She was leaving tonight, and she thought I didn't know.   She was leaving not because she got tired of being by my side—that much I was sure of—but because she had finally found the strength to put herself first.   She finally found the courage to seek a new beginning.   To realize her dreams.   To find her own happiness.   And to love herself ahead of others.   Besides knowing I may never see her again, the most painful part was failing to show her my gratitude. Failing to apologize for all the tears she had shed. Failing to properly thank her for everything she had done. And for all the sacrifices she had made.   Besides knowing I may never see her again, the most painful part was failing to let her know my true feelings—to let her know that despite the relentless protest of my conscience, I had fallen in love with her.   But in the end, my failure to confess everything was for the best—   Because nothing I did nor could do, would ever erase the scars brought by my selfishness and inability to accept the truth.   || Four Years Ago ||   Why is it that when you are loved, you become selfish?   Is it because it becomes right even when you know it's wrong?   Because you feed on their weakness to make yourself strong?   Is it because you take without giving anything in return?   Or is it because you're okay, even if they hurt?   “Kim Junmyeon!” someone called excitedly from a distance.   Hearing my name, I turned my head slightly in the direction of that familiar voice, met their owner's gaze for a brief second, then looked back into the distance with a quiet sigh.   I knew she was coming, charging with all her might to inform me—the only student who didn't bother to watch—about the romantic confession that just took place in our school's courtyard, but I didn't expect her to find me this quickly.   Taking one long stride after another, Hyeri dashed in my direction as fast as her short legs could take her, and when she finally closed the distance, her lips curved into a barely noticeable smirk—an obvious sign that told me she knew I was already aware of the news that took our campus of 2000 students by storm.   With both hands on her knees, panting, she quickly caught her breath and straightened up. "Have you heard?" she asked with the biggest grin she could summon, her voice cheerful and taunting.   It was an expression that made my blood boil, but I knew she couldn't care less about what it did to me nor how I felt at the moment.   Certain she won't leave until she delivered what she crawled five flights of stairs for, I released a hefty sigh and looked at her, making sure to convey I was uninterested with what she had to say. "What?" I answered, my tone frigid and annoyed.   Unaffected by my cold response, Hyeri retained her mocking smile. She then clasped her hands together, pressed them against her rosy cheeks, and looked up at the clear blue sky before setting her twinkling gaze back to me. "Yoo Mi-unni and Minseok-sunbae finally made it official!" she exclaimed with an added squeal—a statement that rubbed more salt to my already wounded and throbbing heart.   Holding in the pain, I tightened my grip on the cold metal bars and pretended to be ignorant of the fact—exactly as she wanted. "Really?" I replied through clenched teeth.   There was anger, sadness, and disappointment audible in my voice and expression, but she didn't give a damn.   Hyeri was selfish.   Hyeri was cruel.   All she craved was to see my reaction upon hearing the big news again. She wanted to witness the hurt in my eyes—to hear the shattering of my heart—when she confirmed that the girl my world revolved around had been swept away by the guy of her dreams.   Yoo Mi was a year older than us; she was a senior and Hyeri and I were both juniors. We all grew up together, went to the same schools, and had been close friends since we were kids. "The three amigos" as we liked to call our four-to-ten-year-old selves.   For the longest time, I considered Yoo Mi my first and only love, but I knew, without needing to ask, that the neighborhood noona only saw me as a little brother and friend.   Everyone was aware of my undying love for her, and it was just as I wanted—yet in their silent thoughts, they also knew she would never accept me.   Some told me to fight for it, while others told me to just give up. But regardless of what anyone said, I held on to what my mind and heart had solidified as the only truth: that there could be no one else—   That I could love no one else—   But her.   And through so many years, I clung on to this deep-seated feeling I was certain would never change.   || …………. ||   But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Yoo Mi's and Minseok's relationship remained strong, continuously blooming with no end in sight.   The constant frustration, jealousy, and heartache eventually became too much. It weakened my resolve, and soon, my hopes began to fade away slowly.   Hyeri stayed with me throughout this difficult time. It was because of her—because of her unrelenting attempts to distract me from the pain—that I was able to keep my sanity.   And as I allowed her more into my life, I discovered things about her I didn't know before.   Hyeri was patient.   Hyeri was kind.   Hyeri was giving.   And that her love for me, like my love for Yoo Mi, was unyielding.   Without being asked, she blocked their happiness from my sight and mind.   She made endless jokes when I needed a laugh.   She came running when I needed company.   She stayed beside me when I needed comfort.   Hyeri was the one who prevented me from drowning in my own self-pity.   But instead of thanking her properly, I did something cruel.   I caved and gave her what she wanted--I said those words she had been dying to hear.     We were walking home from the restaurant where Yoo Mi's birthday party was held, and where Minseok got down on one knee and gave her the promise ring he had been keeping since Christmas. In his words, it was the first of three rings he vows to put on her finger—a declaration that made Yoo Mi jump into his arms and swear to love him forever.   A declaration that reopened the wounds Hyeri barely managed to close.   It was pouring hard that day and instead of taking the bus, I chose to wa