Growing up, I always had this heard cold spot in my heart. A spot that stung whenever my mother laid her reddened eyes on me. Back then, I could not find the correlation between that cold spot and her presence. I could not figure out why I shook with fear every time she was near me, or why the cold spot in my heart spread to my entire body when she screamed at me and hit me.

I hated the fact that I could not cry when my mother would come home high, having spent all of our money on drugs, and would beat me for being hungry. I hated that my body stood frozen, unable to react, when the ladies from the social services asked me if my mommy was treating me alright.

The cold spot in my heart only grew bigger when I was forced to spit out lies to teachers at school, that asked me about my mother, and how close we are since we only have each other. It only got colder as I slowly grasped the concept of love, and how absent it had been in my life, and in my relationship with my mother.

I'm convinced, that I have never felt loved. Not only that, but I have also not loved anyone. Once I left home, abandoning my dying addicted mother, I realized how deprived I had been of everything. Many people came into my life, trying to embrace my bruised body and cold heart — simply to no avail. I was unable to let the feeling of love engulf me, or even accept it as a concept. I only worked hard, saved money up, and pretended to be outgoing, so I would not be left alone.

The cold spot in my heart was taking me over as the years passed and as I got older and older, still being stuck into my comforting and very repetitive life; work, sleep in an empty bed, forced socializing over and over again. While watching my life flow right before my eyes, I had decided to let my past go. I had decided that my mother's slaps, kicks, punches, and insults were all in the past, and ignored the cold spot in my heart. I burned all the old photographs I had, where I posed as a child, plastering a fake crooked smile, with bony arms and legs, and in cheeks from the starvation. All the bridges that connected me with my mother, were blown up, and all contact was seized once the cold spot in my heart reached its peak.

I'm convinced that I have never felt loved. Not only that, but I have also not loved anyone. Any form of love, especially motherly, was such a strange concept to me. No matter how many novels I read and films I watched, nothing could convince me that such emotions truly exist.

That, until I met you.

That night that I aimlessly walked around Seoul, having just heard of my mother's death, I met you. Still with my work uniform on, I was captivated by the way you shouted at the top of your lungs, attempting to draw attention to your pojangmacha (street food stand). It was the first time I was convinced that someone was doing a job that they loved and were made for. In fact, I was so convinced that I spent over 30,000 won in hotteok, tteokkbokki, and mandu.

The whole night passed by with you talking, serving all the drunken university students with a smile on your face. You spoke about your passion, the burning need you had to keep your stand afloat, in order to continue your parents' legacy. You talked about your childhood, your small apartment, and the days you spent helping your parents with their stand when you should have be going to school. The night was almost over as you talked and talked, expressed your undying love for your parents and how thankful you were for the way they brought you up. You spoke about puppies, and kittens, and the fact that you wanted to have at least four children to help you out with the stand in the future. You went on and on about how you would love to branch out to a small shop, maybe a chain even, where you would sell tasty street food, just the way your parents did.

Up until that night, I had never heard someone mention love so much, nor had it ever crossed my mind that it was possible for someone to even love so much; unconditionally and effortlessly. The sting of my cold heart had somehow softened.

And when you grabbed my hand, after I told you I would rather not talk about my own childhood years, my body reacted in a way that I was not used to. Instead of freezing up, an unbearable yet somehow sweet heat flooded through my body. And I softened under your touch, listening to you talk for hours on end about everything; world peace, salary cuts, inflation, the globalization of Korean pop music.

I let myself into your warm hands and got stuck into your love-filled world. Without realizing, or caring about it, the cold spot in my heart was slowly melting away. All the years of abuse and fear flooded out of me through tears that you wiped away with care, and all the bruises on my body faded away with the kisses that you planted on my skin.

Growing up, I was convinced that I was never loved. Not only that, but I had also not loved anyone. Any form of love, especially motherly, was such a strange concept to me.

Until I met you.

Up until that night, I had never ever thought that love was something that I deserved and wanted to experience. I had never realized how liberating loving someone could feel, and how comforting being loved was like.

The cold spot in my heart melted completely into a mud of dirty water that I drained from my body, as I watched you walk down the aisle in your beautiful white dress while your friend cheered us on. The warmth you gifted me pumped through my veins when our bodies crushed on our shared bed during our first day as a married couple, and even then I was so sure I had so many things about love that I needed to learn. Though, I did not mind. Looking at your gummy smile, and listening to your loud laugh, I was only excited to continue my journey.

Growing up, I was convinced, that I was never loved. Not only that, but I had also not loved anyone. Any form of love, especially motherly, was such a strange concept to me.

Until I met you.

Up until that night, I had never imagined that I would feel the motherly love, that I secretly always craved, through the sight of you carrying our daughter in your belly. I had never imagined that I would feel my heart swell with love and happiness as I watched you lay on the hospital bed with our little baby resting on your chest.

The cold spot that used to be in my heart was vacant, ready to be filled with new sentiments from the gift you gave to me; our sweet daughter. Her first smile, her first laugh, her first coo, and her first words, her first steps, and the first 'I love you' were all etched into that spot that used to be abandoned.

Growing up, I was convinced, that I was never loved. Not only that, but I had also not loved anyone. Any form of love, especially motherly, was such a strange concept to me.

Until I met you.

Up until that night, I had never imagined myself as a mother, on one hand holding the person that taught me how to love, and on the other the baby I would devote all of my love to.

Growing up, I was convinced, that I was never loved. Not only that, but I had also not loved anyone.

Until I met you, Park Jihyo.