2008

            I was sixteen years old when I first met Jung Eunji, the hot-tempered girl that sat next to me in math class.

            Although she had a pretty face with large, dark eyes and a sweet smile to go along with it, she was exactly like Dongwoo, in the sense that she was a ball of energy that you could never get completely quiet. I guess that’s how she slowly wriggled her way into our duo that had stayed intact throughout our youth.

            Consequently, in my sixteenth year, between the constant nagging and lunchtimes under the oak tree in the school’s front yard, Eunji became my first female friend. I loved her dearly, but not in the way one would expect – thus began my second heartbreak.

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            “Hey Howon,” Dongwoo called, dribbling a basketball around me in lazy circles. “Don’t you think Eunji has been acting a bit strange lately? She always offers to walk home with us after school even though she practically lives on the other side of town!”

            I hummed in reply as I watched him move, not giving much thought on the matter.

            Dongwoo’s voice rose louder still. “And what about the time she showed up at our game, and that time she invited us to eat at your favorite restaurant? Eunji hates watching us play, and hates paying for meals even more!”

            He stumbled over the uneven pavement in his frustration, giving me the opportunity to steal the ball and make my way to the other end of the court.

            “Come on Dongwoo, if you haven’t noticed, Eunji has always been a little strange. I wouldn’t worry too mu-”

            “ I think she likes you.”

            I hesitated for a moment, the ball still in my hands, my arms stretched vertically upwards to prepare for the shot. However, what surprised me the most wasn’t the fact of the matter itself, but rather, my indifference towards the information.

            It seemed that I had unconsciously known all along.

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            It was White Day when Eunji called to meet up in the sweet shop, the same sweet shop I had passed ten years ago with my mother.

            I entered cautiously, the dainty doorbell giving away my presence as a girl some feet away turned in my direction. I gaped at the face, not believing the sight before my eyes.

            “Howon! Over here!”

            She waved her arms animatedly to beckon me over to the table next to the window. There were two identical steaming drinks before her along with a small slice of chocolate cake pushed towards the empty seat.

            “Am I pretty?” she smiled cheekily, acknowledging my open mouth.

            I chuckled, coming to my senses. “So pretty that I feel like I’m eating with an idol. Since when did the infamous Jung Eunji wear makeup, and wear a dress? Today must be a special occasion, am I right?

            As soon as the statement left my mouth, I felt the atmosphere grow somber. I closed my eyes and groaned inwardly, berating myself for my mindlessness in the spur of the moment.

            “Today is White Day, don’t you remember?”

            I nodded, my hands beginning to sweat as she continued on.

            “Today is the day where men confess to the person they like, isn’t that right? I know the significance of this day, and I’m aware of the traditional practice, yet I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

            She paused for a second, looking directly into my eyes.

            “I…I l-like you, Howon.”

            Just then, the small bell above the doorway jingled again, signaling another customer. I glanced up in surprise to see Dongwoo, slipping awkwardly into a nearby booth, straining to hear the snippets of our conversation. Catching my eye, he threw me a quick wink followed by what I presume was a thumbs-up for good luck.

            My heart flipped and I realized that even after all these years, I still liked him.  I thought I had discarded those feelings in our childhood, but it appears that I’ve been clutching on to them until now. All this time, it has been Jang Dongwoo.

            I tried to remember how to breathe as the girl in front of me shifted about, waiting for my reply while nervously her chapped lips.

            “Eunji-ah…”

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            This is the second type of heartbreak, the sickening knot in the pit of your stomach as you see a mangled heart before you, a heart that only minutes before, rested in the palm of your hands, unscathed.

            You hesitantly glance back up, hoping to salvage what’s left of the situation - if there’s anything left at all. Instead, you’re hit with those eyes. The gleam of sadness, the shimmer of hope, and the undecipherable haze inches its way in, clouding their once bright eyes.

            By recklessly choosing to hold on to Dongwoo, I couldn’t keep Eunji by my side. In the weeks that followed, despite my cautious efforts to patch the relationship between us, her effervescent presence retreated, leaving me reeling at the unfamiliarity of it all. And as she left altogether, the cold came in, just like that second heartbreak on that fateful White Day.