We met in school when I was new. It wasn't a movie scene, although pretty she wasn't worshiped, and I didn't have people falling at my feet either. She had a small group of friends, three or four. I had none until we spoke.

Our talks consisted of school work and the exchange of “what’s it like there” and “what’s it like here”. She wasn't too open anyway. My Korean wasn't great and her English was decent. She never spoke it, she just listened and understood. We agreed to teach each other and I guess that must have sealed the friendship deal.

Taeyeon was funny. Dorky, her friends called her. She seemed so brilliantly introverted, perhaps a bit mysterious too until she had enough time to know you. She trusted me, more than anyone despite having consumed less of her time. She trusted me, and so the jokes began.

I’d claim no one would marry her with those strange antics she would pull out of nowhere. She’d claim no one would stand my endless energy enough to marry me.

She jokingly said we’d have to marry each other.

I jokingly said we would.

And we did. We’re here now, and those are fond memories I preserve. I smile when I think of them, because if one thing I remember it’s that Taeyeon doesn't lie. Not even when she jokes. She came to trust me then, she moved on to bare herself to me, and she hadn't lied since.

Now I’m afraid.

Taeyeon is sweet. Timid yet blunt is how she goes about things. She laughs when I've failed and corrects me, every single time. I would too, if she weren't so thoroughly introverted, perhaps a bit suspicious too until she smiles and I forget. I trusted her, more than anyone else because she is my wife. I came to bare myself to her, I moved down to trust her, and now she has lied.

She claims I’m her jewel with a price much too high to pay, I’m too much. I claim she’s beautiful and I love her everything, even her flaws.

She jokingly said we'd have to divorce.

I won't dare answer her.