Dating Jongdae was not easy. It is true that they say relationships are like a rollercoaster with ups and downs, Minseok was figuring it out. With Jongdae’s depression, it was hard to estimate how he would feel that day. Not that Jongdae would let it get in the way, he had not canceled a date ever. Sure, he felt like crap and warned Minseok beforehand, but it mattered. When they would look back at it, it’d be fun, even at that moment it did not seem like it was. Some days, Jongdae would disappear entirely. On the occasion he would flee in his own apartment, other days he was untraceable. Minseok never asked. Other days, he would call Minseok for help. They set up a rule that Minseok would force Jongdae out of the house if he had spent three days locked up. It worked well enough, despite it not bettering the mood in the room till they take a walk and Jongdae loses himself in photography.

‘I think it’s an interesting coping mechanism,’ Minseok said on a particular day when Jongdae photographed the lunch they would have, ‘using photography to not only as a memoir, distraction and hobby, but also as an excuse for exercise and getting out of the house.’

Jongdae shrugged, smiling at his grilled veggies and hummus sandwich. ‘I do like photography. Looking at them, I think my life is pretty great. I’m hoping I can score another exhibition, I’ve been in talks with a guy who also want to create an album with my best photos.’

Minseok gasped. ‘That’s great! Would that be the kick off for some real income? The last exhibition you ran had not paid out greatly, did it?’

‘It didn’t. They had me pay for the instalment of the photos, so I paid a load in print costs. Luckily, most are now already printed. We’re in talks to sell photo copies too, unlike the last that prohibited it. Asshats, I’m still bothered by that.’

Minseok leaned in on the table, Jongdae mimicking him quick enough to earn a small peck. ‘It’s okay, you got exposure and another deal from it.’

‘Maybe, but it doesn’t feel right that you’re paying whenever we’re going out. I want to treat you, too.’ Jongdae pouted. Minseok cracked a smile.

‘I know. I see it as investment. Once you’re this super famous photographer, you can support my measly salary.’

At this, Jongdae laughed. ‘Oh yea, because we all know photographers get real famous.’

‘Instagram is the way to go. Better show off that toosh, you’ll be a star in no time.’ Minseok winked playfully, causing the other to blush and whine loudly.

***

‘I have something to show you,’ Jongdae said the moment Minseok stepped inside. His smile was weary, but genuine. They had not seen each other in two weeks. Jongdae had excused himself, because he had a deadline for a possible project coming up. He had declined Minseok’s help offers or visits, but tonight he invited him over.

‘What is it?’ He asked. He was handed a pamphlet. It was a crude photo with bold letters ‘Exhibition of new artist Kim Jongdae’ on the front. The back revealed details on the exhibition and information on the location.

‘You managed to get sponsored for an exhibition?’

Jongdae nodded fervently. ‘I had a lot of work to do for that. Which, isn’t an excuse why I didn’t come over. I’m sorry, I let my work come before you.’

Minseok was too perplexed to even be angry about that. ‘That’s great, Jongdae! Once I have time off work, I’ll definitely visit as soon as possible!’

***

A week into the exhibition Minseok found time to visit. It was a rainy fall day and since Minseok was going after work, dusk was already upon the city when he arrived. The exhibition was held in an enclosed part of an art museum. Minseok realized the museum was already closed. The front door was still open, so he hesitantly entered. He got spooked by the guard standing next to the door.

‘I thought there was an exhibition still open, am I too late?’ Minseok asked.

The man shook his head and pointed to the one open door in the wide main hall. ‘Just follow that road, it will lead to the exhibition. There is a ticket dispenser in the exhibition hall itself.’

Minseok bowed and showed his gratitude. The door led through several empty halls. The signs on each corridor didn’t hold true when the doors leading to the different parts of the museums were closed, but it made for an easy walk. If he had come earlier, it would have probably taken him a while to find the right exhibition hall. The museum was extensive, if he had to believe the signs. Next time, he should check them out as well. 

After an almost eerie stroll through the museum halls, he entered the only door open into a small, dimly lit hall.

After getting a ticket out of the dispenser, he walked through the initially thought to be small setup. It had a lot of corners and turns, making the place tight and uncomfortable. The photos were spread on the wall screens, intriguing pieces with unusual photography shots. Minseok had never thought about creating such pictures, they were, from a technical viewpoint, awful. Yet, appealing in its most grotesque form. In the next hall, he found the more visually pleasing photos. Among them stood his own picture, the one where he unflatteringly snacked on a dry sandwich. The text made him snort, ; sometimes appreciation comes in the form of seeing someone else’s suffering. Little did I know that this encounter led me into an array of feelings for this unknown man, and even when I thought fate was not with me, the man found me himself. –

He went on further, seeing a picture that made his gut twist. It was an intimidate photo, shot in a erted angle. Most of the picture was covered with a man’s hairless chest, only in the corner could you see his hands on his privacy. In the other corner you could see a bit of another body, the only that must have taken the photo in an awkward position to create such a dynamic. The photo was a cold reality Jongdae was not his and their first ‘date’ happenings were nothing special for the man. If he even made pictures, they must have been close enough to do it more often. His curiosity for the text Jongdae wrote about the photo intrigued him more than his avoidance of his feelings would allow. Antidepressants are a . Depression is a too, but I can deal with that on my own. For a long time, I let my depression rule my uality. I don’t crave anything, but I want to please. I want acknowledgement and love, so I will train my mind and body to be like any guy would be.

An odd script for a photo like that.

He later arrived at a wall of photos. They were small frames on a huge canvas. Minseok recognized himself in some of the frames, they were pictures Jongdae had shot on his phone. He spotted the one from the cinema and smiled. The picture actually turned out quite good, although the flash had white washed his skin. Each photo is a memory, one I am cementing for when my mind won’t remember.

Minseok was reminded of the first day he met. Jongdae had spoken about documenting things, things that caught his eye or that he wanted to keep as a memory. This played a big part in Jongdae’s life, but to see it translated into a wall of memories to this degree was amazing. Some other faces were vaguely familiar too, though he couldn’t add a name to the faces. Jongdae even photographed the baker of one of the most well-known bakeries in the city.

‘Seeing something you like?’ A voice behind him spoke, causing Minseok to turn around in shock from the sudden noise. He could have sworn he had been alone here the whole time.

It was Jongdae. His face wore a warm smile, but the bags under his eyes told a different story.

‘Jongdae! You’re here?’

‘I am. So are you.’ Jongdae deadpanned. ‘What do you think of it so far?’

‘It’s really amazing. I got goosebumps looking at your photos and the text underneath them.’

‘When I tell you about how I deal with things, I often wonder how well I can relay those feelings I get sometimes.’ He walked to one of the photos. It was one taken in public, a crowd of people walking past the camera with blurs on their faces. It was a black and white picture with one crude line following diagonally through it. Whether it was intentional or not, Minseok did not know, but it was a horribly crude and unusual shot.

The text below read, days blur together, as well as faces, until everything is darkness.

‘I have these episodes, you see, that I cannot escape. It’s in my head and it takes so much effort to try and overcome them for even just a day.’ He pointed at the photo. ‘If I could visualize it, this is the closest it would look like.’

Minseok nodded quietly, prodding him to continue. Jongdae tried to explain it a few times, but it was a vague concept for one that didn’t suffer through such things.

They walked to another piece. An old woman, on a seat in public transport. The angle was shot in bird’s perspective, looking down on the crown of the woman’s head with her phone in her hand. It was the only thing in focus, while the rest had blurred away. It read a single text message, a random name from whom the message was sent. The text was in Chinese, so Minseok couldn’t read it, but on second glance he could see the woman held a scrunched tissue. He could not gather more context from the picture, but he assumed the message was of sad origin.

‘How does this photo relate to you?’ He asked. He was drawing a blank at this point.

Jongdae shrugged. ‘It could have been my mother. Except, I do try to stay in touch.’ He dwelled in his thoughts for a moment, staring at one spot with glazed eyes. ‘On those episodes, I have difficulties maintaining relationships. In general, actually, because I cannot stop my intrusive thoughts.’

Minseok reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a silly gesture, but it felt like the right one.

Jongdae snorted softly and removed the hand. Instead, he palmed it with both hands. ‘You kept on messaging, even when I didn’t answer.’

Minseok’s eyes left his hand and gazed at the man. ‘What? Of course. Shouldn’t I?’

‘No, no,’ Jongdae quickly withdrew, ‘I am glad you did.’

They exchanged a smile. Jongdae led him further through the exhibition. He did not comment on any of the photos, not much at least. He replied only the questions Minseok asked. Seeing the different pieces, each representing both the light and dark in Jongdae’s life, gave Minseok a hunch of what Jongdae had been warning him about. Not in the sense of a problematic boy, but rather one dealing with a serious disorder.

‘When did you discover all this?’ Minseok asked. They were coming to the end of the exhibition, only a few left.

‘When? I don’t know. I guess it was always part of me, but it only became apparent when I was older. Did you know it’s partially a genetic condition? Or so they assume, since my mom has it too.’

‘Was she able to take care of you?’ They passed Jongdae’s contest-winning photo. The characters looked as delighted as Minseok had remembered them.

Jongdae shook his head. ‘Maybe if it was someone else, but no, she couldn’t. I was adopted by another family when I was two years old. They’re the best, so I think it turned out well.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Minseok managed to reply as coolly as one could in the given situation. He gazed quickly to the text underneath the photo. Photos only capture a fraction of one’s feeling. At the right time, they’ll come out as vibrant as they were intended.

‘Cute,’ Minseok commented, offhandedly wrapping an arm around Jongdae’s waist and letting it sit there. He gazed at Jongdae’s expression, seeing if he too could capture the vibrancy that hid behind its dark frames. It did not show in his expression, but Minseok felt a small victory when the man stepped closer to him and let their sides touch.

‘Before I show you my last piece, I want to tell you that I like you, Kim Minseok.’ If Minseok thought they were close when they stood side by side, it paled in comparison when Jongdae turned to face him, their hips bumping against each other. His face was only a few inches away.

Minseok chuckled. ‘I know. I like you too, Jongdae.’ Though their relationship was still fickle and would require a better understanding from both sides, they both put in a lot of effort. It was all Minseok could ask for to make it work.

Jongdae leaned forward and pecked him on the corner of his lips. ‘I like you a lot, Minseok.’ His lips grazing Minseok’s skin as he spoke. Minseok was the first to kiss. Jongdae’s lips were still so soft. Somehow, nothing else mattered anymore.

The last photo was of Jongdae. It was a self-portrait, in his dilapidated living room. It was clean, so it must have been after the time they cleaned it four months ago. His collection of notebooks and pens laid in layers of circles around him. He sat on the backrest of the couch, his feet hovering above the ground. Despite the weird symbolism and the distracting features of the room, what shone was Jongdae’s smile. His eyes were shut and he smiled openmouthed like he was in pure delight.

‘Who took this photo?’

‘I did. What are you thinking?’

‘I think this is my favorite. You’re smiling, because despite all the circumstances, you accomplish what you want. Even when you feel horrible, you still find a moment to smile. That is what I find very admiring about you, Jongdae.’

Jongdae smiled, as genuine as he did on the photo. It was the smile that reeled him into this story, and seeing it again, it was worth all the efforts.

Final note
I’ve read somewhere that over 350 million people suffer from some form of depression. Depression is still stigmatized and widely misunderstood by relatives, (professionals) and media. In an attempt to create a better understanding, as well as challenge myself with an intricate character, I wrote this story. I wanted it to be not negative, because having a disorder should not equal having an unwillingness to cope with it. I wanted Jongdae to find joy in things that even if he could not feel it at that moment, he would look back and appreciate the memories. Photography is also something that I hold very dear and I hope that interest translated well in my story too.

Two sources of inspiration I’d like to mention;
Dan Howell's video
Martina from Simon and Martina's video

If you think you might have depression or need help in any shape or form, please reach out to someone and prioritize your well-being. Your mental health is very important, so be kind to yourself and find what works for you. Much love.