A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE! It's really long, so I hope that makes up for the wait[:

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Nayoung's PoV:

I first fell in love when I was in high school. Well, that's what I believed.

It was your typical first love: the extreme honeymoon stage, the unnecessary PDA, the thought of being in love despite dating for only 3 months. It starts off like this and like usual, it ebbs away to a more “mature relationship”.

He wasn't my ideal type at first. He didn't look like an actor. He didn't sing like an idol. He was smart. He liked me. We got along well together. I thought that was enough.

We learned to grow on each other. I thought I hated how loud he laughed, but soon enough, all I wanted to hear was his loud laughter. I was worried my parents wouldn't approve of him because he ate sloppily, but I started to prefer his casual doings rather than his mannerisms.

We were really open to each other. He walked me to my classes. We went on dates every other day after school. We studied together. We held hands and openly confessed our love for one another in public.

I told him what I thought was my everything: my future goals, what I thought about my family, my dream, my insecurities.

I thought I loved him. I thought I would never find someone else like him. I thought he was the one.

In the beginning of our last year in high school, we decided to end things. We had been dating for over a year and a half.

It was (probably) inevitable. Both of us were planning to separate when we attended different universities to study different things: he wanted to be a businessman and I wanted to study literature. We also had to prepare ourselves for high school exit and college entry exams. With this, we would've been too busy to spend time together and it was logical to end things here.

Saying I was devastated would be an understatement. With him, I was so happy. Like any couple, we had our ups and our downs. It was weird not seeing something that was once considered a constant in my life. No more studying in the library together every day. No more someone walking me to classes. No one to talk to until 3AM.

I loved him.

I told him that.

And I meant it.

That was the worst part.

Honestly, I asked myself what went wrong. I was starting to think maybe we could work things out. We had loved each other. We had taken a break before. Why couldn't we try long distance? Why did we break up way before graduation or the summer before university? Was I extra baggage? Did the year and a half mean nothing to him? Was it supposed to mean nothing? Did he just disregard everything we went through together because of school? I know it sounds selfish, but is this fair?

I don't know how many days I cried for and how many times I clicked his contact, tempted to call him. One day, I just totally lost myself dignity and called him a handful of times. I left voicemails and texts, asking him to take me back. I still cringe thinking about how desperate I sounded, how much I gave and was still giving to him. That was how much I had loved him.

I invested my heart and soul into this boy and although there were a lot of good memories, I regret a part of it. Now, I can't afford to give so much of myself again and I wouldn't want anyone else to feel as giving and sacrificing as I was, only to hurt themselves sometime in the long run. It's not right.

“After the flower path is a bottomless pit.” Minkyung, my high school best friend, told me as I cried in her arms.

I hated thinking about that. I hated thinking our relationship was as beautiful as a flower path. I hated thinking our relationship turned into a bottomless pit as if there was no way out.

--

Towards the end of my first year in college, a hallmate had confessed to me that he liked me. At the time, I thought I was over my first boyfriend. I thought I liked this boy, too. I said yes when he asked me out.

Our relationship was casual, not in a ual way though. We had dates every now and then. Sometimes he'd buy me flowers or surprise me with bubble tea when I was studying. He was an engineering student, which made me feel better because if this worked out, I could prove to myself that I could date someone who was studious. I wasn't extra baggage or whatever. We wouldn't be distracting each other. We could get through university together and not break up despite our different career choices.

There was a lot to like about this guy. He was very well-built, despite the nerdy engineer stereotype. He was obviously very smart, but wasn’t afraid to ask about things he wasn’t sure about. He was a gentleman and graceful, even in his faults. He was almost too… perfect. I couldn’t tell whether to take this was a green light because I was so hurt in the past and he was a sign to move on or if this was a red light because I never believed a man in this earth would exist.

I guess with this relationship, I was scared. I was scared to say yes all the time. I was scared to open myself to him. I was scared to give my all.

My friends told me to stop “playing hard to get”. Was that what I really was?

He would ask me out on dates and I would get really excited. In the beginning I would say yes most of the time, but I was worried he was going to start assuming I would agree to everything he'd ask me to do. I mean, I did do that in my last relationship. With my first boyfriend, I went to his basketball games even though I didn't like sports. I hung out with his friends even though they were slightly obnoxious.

In this relationship, I said no. I said no when I was uncomfortable. I said no when I was busy. I said no when I knew I needed time for myself.

Then I started saying no without any logical reasoning. I said no because I had agreed to many things before that. I said no because I was scared of doing things that would advance our relationship, like meeting family or going to fancy club banquets. I said no, just to say no.

Come the middle of summer, when he asked to meet up (multiple times may I add). Every single time he asked, I denied, explaining that I was working and taking a summer class or spending time with friends and family.

All the no’s piled up and we broke up. It was my fault and I feel guilty about it. I wonder if this is how my first ex felt. This second boyfriend gave his all. I felt it. I received it. I appreciated it. I just didn’t give as much as he gave. I wanted to, but I just... couldn’t.

Of course I had lots of regrets, maybe even more regrets than my first relationship. With no surprise, I wasn't as attached, which, consciously, felt just as bad as being too attached. I felt like I had wasted his time and effort. I was a horrible girlfriend. I was too scared to prioritize someone again and it took a toll on our relationship.

To this day, I hate how open and vulnerable I was to my first boyfriend. It makes me feel stupid. Even after three years into university, I'm scared of feeling that way again.

I hate how closed off I was with my second boyfriend. It makes me feel regretful. It makes me feel like I’m wasting the time and feelings that I feel like is depleting from my system. It was nothing like my first relationship, but it wasn’t something I wanted to experience again.

Now, I'm not sure what to feel.

--

You’d think after two traumatic experiences, I wouldn’t date again, but there’s just someone who couldn’t stop me from falling into the dangerous trap once again.

As of current, I'm dating this charming, beautiful, talented, and easygoing girl. Her name is Zhou Jieqiong, but her Korean name is Joo Kyulkyung.

I never thought I'd end up liking a girl, but she caught my attention on a day when I was rather vulnerable.

Around the first quarter of my second year, my older brother had gotten a girl pregnant. My parents and the girl’s parents highly suggested a marriage. The cost of a decent marriage and preparing for a baby kicked in a dent for my parents budget. Our situation was so bad that they had told me they couldn't afford to pay for my tuition for the upcoming quarter and if I wanted to continue my education without taking a break, I would have to find my own ways and means to pay it off for the time being.  

I'm not the type of person to ask for help, whether it was monetarily or emotionally. I know it is not smart nor healthy, but I felt it was safe. After my first breakup and drifting away from my high school best friends, I didn't like expressing my problems to just anyone. I didn't even make any close university friends that I could trust to support me in this time of need.

I remember feeling like I was dying inside. My brain felt like it was being mushed around and my body felt heavy. The only thoughts that occupied my mind were the stress and anxiety of solving my problem. I couldn't even think about studying. I loathed the idea of me studying so hard, only to end with dropping out because I couldn't afford to pursue my education. I scrambled looking for jobs and applying for scholarships.

There was one day I ate at the university union. At the canteen, everything is made to order and then you pay at the end.

I had already received my food, fallen in line, and reached the cashier, only to find out that I forgot to put cash in my wallet. I panicked. I asked the cashier person to hold my spot in line while I ran to an ATM. I emptied my wallet looking for loose change.

It didn't take longer than probably two minutes for a girl to come up and swipe her card. I remember looking up from my worn wallet in disbelief.

“I'll pay for everything,” she coolly said with a smile.

She was obviously an international student. She looked nothing like a Korean. It wasn't a bad thing though. She was very unique. Her beauty was rather… breathtaking.

Before I could admire her any longer, she picked up her food and turned to me. “Let's go.”

Unsure of what was happening, I followed her out of the line. In my state of desperation, I knocked some sense into me. This stranger just paid for my meal. I now owe her. “Can you please tell me your name and bank number? I'll pay you back. Or do you mind coming with me to the ATM? I just need to get a little cash.”

She stopped and turned to me. Her hair flipped to the side and I was wondering why I was captivated by the small details of this girl. She smiled and looked at me, but I felt self-conscious of her innocent gaze. “My name is Jieqiong, but call me by my Korean name, Kyulkyung. Don't worry about paying me back. You're doing me a favor because I have a lot of meal plan credits. You should've gotten a drink with that,” she chuckles something melodious. “Enjoy your meal.” She winks before turning around and leaving.

This time, I stayed in my spot. When she was out of sight, I had let out a breath of air I didn't know I was holding in. My cheeks became hot. I had no idea what was going on.

She probably doesn't remember this, but it's forever ingrained in my head. It was the first time in a while that I was so vulnerable in front of so many people. She swooped in and saved me from humility, with no questions asked.

--

The following quarter, I had taken Music Theory II for a general education course. I skipped out of the Music Theory I class because I tested out of it, but I was considering to pursue a minor, so I took this class. I wasn't intimidated by the idea of taking the class with music majors since I was pretty well versed on the subject.

It was a good thing I wasn't intimidated, but I also shouldn't have been so distracted.

It wasn't until week two that I recognized the girl who had saved me from starvation. On that particular day, she was sitting in front of me. She wasn’t consistently sitting in front of me, so she never caught my eye until that day. I remember feeling particularly down because I had been declined another jo