Where did we first meet? I think it was in that one writing class in college. I came in late to class and walked to the back of the classroom to sit down next to you, considering it was the only seat left.

            I remember my first impression of you: your handwriting was beautiful, despite writing down notes quickly. Then I moved to your long fingers, with the nails painted a pale turquoise. My eyes jumped to your face, noticing the way you bit your lips in concentration, your chocolate brown eyes moving from your notes to the teacher and back down. Your dark hair was swept back into a low ponytail, a turquoise band tied around it. You didn’t really seem to notice me at all… You were too focused on the first day of the class.

            The class ended, and I realized that I hadn’t taken any notes. By the time I’d packed up my things, you were already out the door.

            I remember when I finally got to talk to you. It was a week after the first day of class. I hadn’t gotten to sit next to you again till then. Herds of boys kept crowding around you. I could see the irritation in your eyes, but you kindly waved them away.

            You sat down next to me, pulling your long hair out of your ponytail and letting the waves of brown hair tumble down. You finally took notice of me and smiled hesitantly.

            I smiled back and teased you about your fanboys. You laughed and introduced yourself. Kwon Haneul. I told you my name. Lee Taemin. And you smiled, saying the usual, “It’s nice to meet you.”

            That day of class, I lost myself in your eyes, now hidden behind black and turquoise framed glasses. I asked you about them and you said you didn’t have time to put in your contacts that morning.

            Days passed, classes were attended, and our friendship progressed. Little did you know that I’d fallen in love with you since day one. I noticed every little thing about you, like your habit of biting your bottom lip when concentrating, when you untie your ponytail whenever you’ve been frustrated, when the only color you frequently wore was turquoise.

            My grades fell a bit, but you offered to help, which led to our private study sessions together. You’re knowledge was vast compared to mine.

            We hung out a lot outside of our classes and study sessions as well. We went to the park often, learning more about each other. I never forgot a single thing you told me.

            Your favorite color was turquoise… Your birthday was August 4^th… You wanted to become a writer… You told me so many things, and eventually, we grew close enough for you to tell me your fears… some secrets that you’d never wanted to tell.

            You were scared of heights… You were scared of the deep ocean and boats… You used to hurt yourself… You used to be suicidal… and perhaps you still were.

            Your secrets surprised me. You seemed so opposite to that. But I never judged you for that. And I told you I’d always be there for you.

            Then you asked for me to tell you about myself. And I replied easily.

            My favorite color was white… My birthday was July 18^th… I wanted to become a dancer…

            I had a fear of bugs… I didn’t have too many fears… I was and still am insecure about my dancing…

            We continued like this: sitting together in class, having study sessions, hanging out in the park and having nice conversations…

            And the school year ended. I didn’t see you for an entire summer.

            When the new year started, nothing had changed (despite not having a class together any more). You still smiled so brightly whenever you saw me, hugging me around the waist. I hugged back and quickly let go, afraid that if I held you longer that my secret would be out. You would laugh at what you called my “shyness” and shrug it off, walking with me to the park or to the school café.

            Then came the day when I’d realized that if I didn’t confess, you’d leave me for another guy. And that was all that took for me to confess to you.

            You were surprised. Shocked. But you immediately fell out of the trance and hugged me, saying that you returned my feelings. I kissed you then, and you laughed afterwards, wondering what took me so long. Your lips tasted of strawberries and bananas. From then on, I noticed that was your favorite lip gloss flavor.

            Our relationship was always perfect. We never fought. We never had moments of wanting to break up. We never lost any of the spark that was always there.

            I took you on simple dates, for you never liked extravagant ones. We always went to the park on nice, sunny days.

            You would bask in the sun and I would simply smile, enjoying my time with you.

            We had our flaws, and I guess that’s why we loved each other even more.

            I noticed how your smile would slowly brighten when you saw me, or when you would play with my fingers when you were bored, your turquoise painted nails tracing the lines of my fingers and palms.

            We began to become more interactive in each other’s lives. I would sit beside you and give you feedback while you wrote. You would watch my dancing and encourage me when I felt I wouldn’t be able to do something.

            It was a year before I told you that I loved you (with the three words of “I love you”) and you replied, “I love you, too” as if it was the most natural thing you could have done.

            I asked you why you said it so easily. You said that it was something that you always thought of whenever we were together, and that you’d gotten used to the intimate idea. You said that we clicked together perfectly, and you had no doubt that you would want to be with me forever. I smiled and kissed you gently, promising that I would one day marry you. You blushed and turned away, but your small smile was visible to me.

            We’d have never thought that we would eventually separate.

            Our days together were sweet. They seemed to go on and on and I never thought it would end. Before we knew it, we’d both graduated and our relationship was at the age of three years.

            You moved into my apartment and the only moments we didn’t see each other were when we were working.

            The one thing that ruined my life was the day I saw an open letter on the kitchen table with the words, “We invite you, Haneul Kwon, to come to New York for a job as an editor in our magazine.” That was all I read before I felt my world crash around me.

           You walked out of your room and saw my duffle bag on the floor by the table, me sitting there with my head in my hands. You whispered my name softly and I looked up quickly. You told me that you were going to reject the offer, knowing that there was no way I could follow you, with my job as a choreographer here in Korea. You knew that you couldn’t stand to be away from me. So you told me you were going to reject the offer.

            But I knew it had always been your dream to work in New York.

            So I made the biggest mistake I’d ever made. I did the one thing that could have helped you achieve you dream.

            I broke up with you.

This is ongoing! So it's not the end yet ^.^!

I felt so sad writing this TT.TT

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Thanks for reading~

~DespisedSecret

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