“I don’t know where you fell in love, I don’t know when you fell in love, and I don’t know how you fell in love.  

But me? 

I fell in love between shower curtains, and rusted curtain rods, with foggy windows, with slippery shower floors, with a girl 4 inches shorter than me.  

Her name was Wendy, and I loved her more than I love myself. I loved her more than I loved to breath, and that might sound cliché, and dramatic, and juvenile. But I swear it. 

I fell in love with her eyes.  

She used to complain about them, she would groan, and moan, and mope.  

‘I literally have the most, un-unique eyes in the world. Brown eyes, who gives a about brown eyes? They're not even light brown eyes, just the most average eyes in the world. brown eyes. Ugh!’  

I always told her I loved her eyes, that even though they weren’t unique, they were the only eyes I could get lost in.  

‘literally the only cool thing about my eyes, is whenever I go to the doctor’s they have to shine a light into them to figure what color they are. And! Nobody could ever tell when I was high in school, because the black in my pupil just blended in with my eye color. I have demon eyes Sooyoung’.  

I didn’t know how to tell her that those eyes, those black eyes, always shone the brightest. That the eyes she felt were nothing, brightened my dark days.  

We showered every day, sometimes at night. And every time, I still found myself breathless. How could someone be so beautiful? How could someone be so perfect? 

She used to complain about her hair, ‘it’s too curly! Too nappy!’ she’d yell.  

‘brown hair! Ugh! Gah, I’m so average’. 

I didn’t know how to tell her that her hair wasn’t curly or nappy, that although we showered every day, she only brushed her hair once every two weeks. It was disgusting. But she was so cute trying to brush it out. She was so cute shouting into the stream of water. 

She put conditioner on wrong.  

I didn’t tell her that you’re supposed to rub it into your hands, and then start at the tips of your hair and work your way up. You’re not supposed to put a glob in your hand, and just put it in your hair. But I loved watching her, loved her complaining.  

I loved how thrown off she was every morning when the top of her head was softer than the tips.  

We'd run out of conditioner quickly, because when she did brush her hair. She would use the whole bottle trying to untangle her hair. Just to get tired of brushing it, and make me do it anyway. 

She always broke our brush, I always told her, if she just divided her hair when she brushed it, she wouldn’t break it, if she put conditioner on right, if she brushed it more often. She would just shake her head at me, and give me 13 bucks and a pat on the . And then I was off, to the nearest family dollar, to buy the same brush I knew I would be getting in a months' time. 

Wendy loved to tell stories, shower time was her story time. She was a Papa John’s delivery driver, and every night she had a new story. And I was always eager, always wanting, always needing to hear about the shenanigans she and her crew got into.  

How Seulgi slipped on pizza sauce.  

How Irene was still trying to get Seulgi to notice she had a crush on her. 

How Yeri hung up on a customer because he sounded like a creeper.  

We were two 20-year old’s, in love, fighting to survive. She delivered pizza’s to people she felt didn’t deserve it, and I was a student working at a café. Just trying to make ends meet.  

Because she came from a family of Jehovah Witnesses, and I came from a family of close-minded Koreans. Two different sides of the same coin, but still agreeing. The gays were bad.  

We lived simply, we loved wholly, and Wendy told stories to the background of running water, yelling neighbors, and loud piping.  

‘baby, I hate them. I hate them all’ 

‘who?’ 

‘people baby, people’.  

Every night, while she hogged the shower head, she complained. Told me how she hated how rude people were, like she owed them something, I always wanted to tell her that she did. That she owed them their pizza, but I could never cut her off.  

I couldn’t bear with the thought of her not talking. Of her not brightening my night.  

She claimed to hate people, but said she loved the kids. She loved hearing them get excited, hearing them stomp to the door, seeing their smiles. She said she felt like Santa Claus. 

I hadn’t figured out how to tell her I felt the same way when I saw her every morning.  

I fell in love with her jokes.  

Her horrible, cheesy, ill-timed jokes.  

I fell in love with her hands.  

Tiny, soft, but big enough to cradle my cheeks, to hold me, to cuddle my bleeding heart.  

I fell in love with her.  

She said her feet were weird, I told her I'd let her step on me any day. 

She said her neck was fat, I told her it was just more surface area for me to kiss.  

She said her thighs jiggled, I said they were always firm around me. 

She said she hated her voice, I said I loved it most when it said my name. 

She said she loved me, I told her I had never loved anyone quite like I loved her. 

She said she was sad, I told her to smile. 

She said she just wanted to die, so I cried and held her in my arms.  

I loved her wholly. 

I loved her selfishly. 

Obsessively.  

Completely. 

I loved the fleshy part of her shoulder, I loved her chubby cheeks, I loved her cold feet and tiny hands. I loved how she felt under me, beside me, on top of me,  

I loved to bite the tips of ears, I loved to hold her under the water, kiss her while the water fell on us, in our ears, in our mouths.  

‘If I die, you have to promise you’ll move on’ she told me one time.  

Brown eyes boring into mine. I had gulped and nodded. 

I lied.  

I would never move on.  

I loved her with everything in me.  

On a spiritual level. A cellular level. 

Every bit of me, loved every bit of her.  

When she left, everything hurt.  

There was silence in my shower, no complaints, no broken brush, no empty bottle of conditioner. No groaning, and , and moping.  

She had so much she hadn’t done yet, so much more left to do.  

Who was going to break the brush now? 

Who was going to waste all the conditioner? 

Who was going to hold me with their tiny hands? 

Who was going to kiss me under the shower head? 

Who was going to make my life worthwhile? 

Who was going to tell me stories of Seulgi slipping over pizza sauce? 

Who was going to tell me about Irene’s latest plan to get Seulgi to notice her? 

Who was going to choke on water, while they laughed, telling me about Yeri hanging up a customer? 

Who was going to face the world with me? 

I fell in love when Wendy sang for the first time, I was on her bed, listening to her sing in the shower. Her parents weren’t home, but she was, and I was there waiting. Heart pounding, as she sang some song. 

It was English, I wasn’t sure what she was even saying. I knew then, she could be cursing me out and I would love her.  

‘I don’t need company, in the company of you 

And I don’t need love, cause your love will do 

And I’ve got you, and you’ve got me 

And that’s all we need’ 

She sang, filling my eyes with tears, and my heart with bone crushing love. I didn’t know what she was saying, I just wanted to listen. 

‘I don’t need air, I don't need to breath 

And I don’t need rest, I don’t have time to sleep 

Cause I've got you, and you’ve got me 

And that’s all we need’ 

Somehow, the sound of running water, and the squirting bottles made the song sweeter. The sound of her little feet padding around only made everything that much better, that much more beautiful. It only served to trip me, and make me fall in love with Wendy Son. 

‘When I get up, so do you 

When you get home, i sleep right through 

And on the road, I sleep alone 

And I can’t wait, until I'm home 

Cause I've got you, and you’ve got me 

Yeah, I've got you, and you’ve got me 

And that’s all we need’ 

When she had gotten out the bath, hair dripping, face red, and eyes searching I had known. In that very moment I had known I was in love.  

That I would be wrecked. 

That I was willing to jump off the cliff for this girl. 

That Park Sooyoung, of South Korea, wanted, needed, loved, Wendy Son of Toronto. 

To hell with prince charming, it was 7:45 and I had found my love.  

My pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. 

My, 11:11. 

My wish on a shooting star. 

I lost my ity to the sound of running water, car horns, and a shower drain.  

I lost my ity to the feelings of warm water, soft hands, tippy toes, and chapped lips.  

Her hands felt like rose petals on my skin. Her lips felt like a wild fire on my undeserving lips. Her gasps, her moans, her whimpers, they felt like an electric bolt to my unprepared heart.  

I fell in love because Wendy Son was made for me. And I for her.  

‘I saw Seulgi kissing Irene’ she had yelled.  

I had laughed, eyes wide. ‘really!’ 

She had nodded so hard, I swore her head would just pop off and roll onto the ground. I kept my hands ready just in case, ten second rule sitting in the back of my head.  

‘yeah! I went out to throw the trash in the dumpster, and I turn my head and there they are! Just making their own o against the wall!’ I pulled her to my chest, resting my head on her head as I laughed with her. Her words muffled against my chest. ‘it was crazy baby, I felt like I was watching an HD hub video’  

Her nose scrunched when she was confused.  

The weirdest things popped up in her head in the shower. 

‘Are their blind writers?’ 

‘Do turtles feel pain?’ 

‘Why does the word , and nose spray sound so alike in Korean?’ 

‘In another life, do you think we’d still love each other?’ 

I always tried my best to answer, because I couldn’t give her much, but I could try to answer. 

‘maybe’ 

‘i’m pretty sure all animals feel pain baby’ 

‘I'm not actually sure, maybe they just ran out of letters to use. At least we tried, at some point you Americans gave up, why is there three theres? And three sees?’ she had laughed, said she was Canadian, I had shrugged, ‘on the map, Canada is in America.” she tried explaining continents, and countries. I just kissed her. Her lips were better served against mine.  

‘In any life, Park Sooyoung loves Wendy Son’. 

I don’t know where you fell in love, I don’t know when you fell in love, or how you fell in love. 

But me?  

I fell in love between shower curtains, and rusted curtain rods, with foggy windows, with slippery shower floors, with a girl 4 inches shorter than me. 

I fell in love when I was 16, to the sound of running water, squeezing bottles, and an angel singing.  

I fell in love slowly, and then tripped right off the cliff and into the arms of Wendy Son. Where I chose to stay, where I’ve stayed. Where I'll stay, till I die, and fall into her arms again.” 

Sooyoung looked up from her paper, her classmates stared at her, eyes b. Then they were clapping, the teacher stood, patted her on the back and said it was beautiful. That her paper was the best he’d heard in a long time. She smiled, and walked to her seat.  

Class ticked down, she tapped her feet impatiently, she just wanted to get home and take a shower, and just sleep her day away. Her classmate in front of her turned, her name was Rosie, Sooyoung remembered because she had the cutest voice when she spoke, but the deepest when she spoke in english. She liked her accent. 

“Your story, is it about someone you know?” Sooyoung smiled, eyes sad.  

“Yeah”. 

“Oh, I'm sorry about your loss”. Sooyoung smiled again, unsure how to respond.  

When class was over, Sooyoung bolted out of the room. She ran to her car, never putting music on, she just wanted to get home. She drove her blue 97 Toyota Camry like it was a 2019 Camaro. Passed the Papa John’s on main street, passed the Family dollar, and into her apartment complex parking lot.  

She made it to her front door in record time, she opened the door. Unsure why she rushed, the apartment was empty, had been for a while. The books collecting dust, the guitar in the corner looked lonely, untouched. She stripped her bag, dropped it by the front door, unbottoned her shirt, letting it fall off her shoulders and onto the floor. She pulled her tights off, letting them accompany her shirt, she unclasped her bra, hanging it on the door knob. She slipped her green down her tan supple thighs, leaving them on the floor as she stepped into the shower.  

She sat under the stream of water, letting it burn her eyes. 

“Yah! Park Sooyoung, what have I said about leaving your clothes around like that?” Sooyoung grinned, water slipping passed her parted lips. She turned to the voice, “Ugh! And! You’re taking a shower without me. What do I keep you around for!” Sooyoung laughed. The shower curtain was pulled back, and there stood a brown eyed, brown haired girl that stood four inches shorter than Sooyoung. 

“Sorry baby. You weren’t home yet. I just really wanted to shower.” The girl rolled her eyes and hummed, throwing Sooyoung’s clothes in the hamper, and undressing herself. 

“How was your presentation?” the girl asked as she stepped into the shower, hugging Sooyoung and once again, per usual, hogging up the water. 

“It went great.” 

“Tell me about it?” 

“I spoke about a girl named Wendy, and how much I loved her.” the girl in Sooyoung’s arms chuckled. 

“Sooner or later, your class is going to ask who you keep writing about. Did you make it seem like I was dead again?” Sooyoung laughed. 

“If they ask, I'll be honest. I have no clue who Wendy is, but Son Seungwan, well she’s the .” 

“Son, the , Seungwan” 

“Damn skippy”, Sooyoung mumbled into Seungwan’s hair.  

“Don’t worry, when I talk about you at work, I always say Joy. Every time they come over, they look so nervous, I don’t think they’ve realized Joy and Sooyoung are one in the same. I think they think I'm cheating. One time, Irene asked me to not invite her anymore because she doesn’t think her heart can handle lying anymore.” Joy looked down, brown, average, but brightly shining eyes looked up into her and she smiled.  

“Joy loves Wendy, and I love Seungwan”. She leaned down, capturing Seungwan’s lips. Water running over them, pipes screaming, a car horn going off, windows fogging, and the shower floor slippery.