A married woman’s journal in her quest to regain love.

Dear Seung Hyun,

I’m sorry I left without saying anything. I’m sure you’re confused as to why. I’d love to explain but I can’t. Seventeen years of marriage isn’t something you can rationalize in a few paragraphs so I’ll be writing this every single day of my journey instead to somehow create meaning out of all the chaos.

I’m addressing all this to you because you’re the only one who could ever understand the words in these letters and you’re the only one I want to reveal it to.

Here goes nothing:

I had a lot of interesting ‘first-time-in-years’ today. I never thought I’d feel nervous about such simple things. I got to the bus station and picked the most rackety looking bus. I didn’t know where it was heading but I still bought a ticket. It looked so old I imagined its pieces falling off one by one down the unknown road it was heading to.

I picked the seat in the middle right across the door. I figured that if the old thing keens over I could just jump out the door and roll over to the side of the street. I know, can you imagine me doing that? Like those actors in action movies?

Angelina Jolie perhaps? You always loved her remember? I hated you for a whole week when you once said your bucket list included experiencing a torrid kiss with her. I said no man in his right mind would say that to his wife’s face. You said you never were right in the head anyways. I would have slapped you for being such a smartass if I didn’t actually find it true.

I was looking out the bus and remembering that moment. The scenery outside wasn’t so remarkable, at least not in the way I imagined it to be. I guess movies really do over gloss those little scenes where the lead character goes on an impromptu journey and looks out the window, relishing the beautiful scenery while soft music is played on the background and the breeze softly whips her hair into a tangled yet graceful mess.  I thought of reenacting it but I forgot my earphones, my music player is officially dead and my hair, as you fully know, was never the type to mess up gracefully.

So I just sat there and distracted myself with thoughts of you. Something I’ve been doing since I left. I’ve found myself thinking of you often times these past few days. I know, cheesy right?

I shouldn’t have given you a cold shoulder that week for saying you wanted to make out with Angelina. You men always had a thing for her, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

What should have surprised me though, and I only realize it now, was how openly you said that to me. Maybe I was too distracted about the idea of you kissing someone else or that I could never have those luscious lips Ms. Jolie possess (unless I go under the knife or get Botox) and it pissed me off for some reason. But looking back, I’m surprised I didn’t think much of it then other than my bruised ego.

When did yo