"Love disappoints." 

That was what I thought when everyone whom I trusted and loved had abandoned me. It was painful, but more importantly— I was disappointed. 

I thought, that if anything ever happens— If I ever trip and fall, they'll all come to help me and pull me out of my misery. I didn't expect them to catch me so I won't get hurt, but I did hope that they will somehow come and pick me up if ever fall. Because that was what is family for, that was their promise.

But... They didn't. 

They only watched me cry in pain, begging for help that I thought they'll give me. Then they left, abandoning me. 

And so, I urged myself to keep on crawling, even if it was painful, I had to pick myself up and continue-- even if I'm hurt and bruised, I had to keep on moving forward if I want to live. I had learned that begging and asking for help will do you no good—no one will help you but yourself. 

At the age of five, my parents always told me to rely on them. Always. And I did. I trusted them with my life. Because they told me so, and I trusted every word that they told me.

So, imagine my agony when I suddenly found myself alone and betrayed, helpless and with no one to hold onto. When I found myself suddenly walking on a hanging-bridge with old cranky planks and nothing to hold onto. It was difficult. 

I supposed that one of the many things I was thankful that I learned from my parents was that I can never run away from the responsibility I put upon myself. And that very same moral made me move on, strive harder— because there's a life inside me, and I had to keep on living for him to live. 

It was quite embarrassing to have learned such an important lesson of relying on yourself at the age of 18, but I was thankful that I did. I was able to survive, move on and my kid had lived a happy life because I wasn't dependent on anyone. I grew stronger and more independent. 

Oh, wait. That's a lie. 

Looking in front of me, I can't help but smile as I remember that I had depended on someone— To my bright little boy. 

You might think it's weird for a 25-year-old to depend on a kid merely at the age of five, but Hyunie... had always been that one person that I depended on my life on.

He had been a happy pill. That every person that gave me a reason to live. He had always been there. He may not know it, but his existence had become a greater source of life for myself. 

He made me forget the pain of being abandoned, the pain of being left alone; he makes me forget all the negative pieces I tried to hide in my smile. 

And so, I thought,  Ha. I can finally move on. Because I had him, and I was far. No one to tell me to abandon my kid, no one to tell me that I'm such a disappointment. I was okay, I was happy.

But then, he came back. 

Like any Kdrama that had been made in history, or actually, from the whole generic of drama itself— he came back like fate had planned all this. 

He came back, reminding me how much life wants to make a game out of me. How life mocks me as if telling me how fun it is to watch a drama involving me. Involving us. 

It happened when I was having a free day with Hyun. I was about to get coffee for me and SinB-ssi who volunteered to take care of Hyun. 

And that cafe she happens to like was where he happens to be working. 

All the pain, all at once—came surging like a fire: ​​​​​​abrupt and hateful. 

​​​​​​All the wounds I thought were just a scar, bled again. 

All the tears that I thought was dried are now on the brink of falling.

And the agonizing burning pain in my chest