April 2013 ~ My Feeling Heart

I'm making this a picture slash quote post para masaya! Because I'm a sucker like that.

How timid and frail is unrequited love? A place you entered of your own accord, but you’re trapped inside, unable to find an exit. He doesn’t know a thing, and could one day leave my line of sight, and the love ends passively. A love that does not bloom flowers, and thus cannot dream of bearing fruit. A love like a seed that is forgotten. That is unrequited love.

Which position is the only unique position in any singular soccer team? Correct answer. The goal keeper. You’d think that it’d be good since they’re the only ones using their hands, right? But actually, it’s not a good thing. They’re always in a state of nervousness that someone may shoot a goal and they have to protect the goal all by themselves. So it’s lonely... and mostly difficult. You’re the goal keeper. I know that it’s a very difficult position. Stay strong.

Her mouth is like a broken faucet in a mountain village. When it’s needed, not one drop comes out, and in the middle of a silent night it flows on its own. In that moment, all the words she couldn’t speak come pouring out belatedly. She vows, 'Next time, I should answer like this, I should make this retort'. That woman speaks the most impressive lines when she’s alone.

First love is painful and unrequited love is heartbreaking.

Even though unrequited love finds its own way in... It’s a love that gets trapped inside, unable to find an exit.

People who think that they can just grab the hand of happiness when it’s offered to them—how happy must they be? That woman becomes nervous when she is too happy. To that woman, happiness is like a child’s game of blowing bubbles. The moment when she touches the bubbles that float her way carrying the light of the rainbow, they burst. In front of happiness, that woman always gives up, before the hand is even offered.

Image via xgoestoinfinity.

The sandcastle I built will be washed away by the waves soon, without a trace. Then our one-sided love and first love will be washed clean.

'What is your truth? Answer honestly.' Whenever someone asked her that, she kept her mouth shut. When unwrapped from its wrapping paper of lies, the truth is not a sweet candy or a chocolate that appears with a flourish. In the way that skin is needed to protect blood and flesh, she needed lies to cover her truth. More than being honest and exposing her scars, that woman found it safer to lie with a brilliant smile.

I make up a thousand reasons just to run into you by chance.

I'm going to stay with the person I shared my first kiss with forever.

Objects in mirror are closer than they appear. They’re not actually as close as they appear.

When she goes out into the world, that woman often becomes invisible. When she gets pushed aside by shoulders, stepped on by feet, and stuck in between the lines, she feels like she’s not visible to the world. So she hid in her room. The small room was soft and comfortable, like a nest to a bird that’s injured its wing. In that space, that woman can breathe freely. She never once missed the outside world or dreamt of it. At least until now...

That's the last thing you said to me... Let's end it now. Let's not thwart each other's fates anymore.

That woman believes that fate is when the thread of her heart connects quietly with another’s. She thinks that that invisible string is what allows people to feel and understand each other, even with the smallest vibration. That woman feels uneasy when one heart suddenly gets mixed together with lots of different ones. So, Fate, please—don't pull my heart so hard...

If something can't be blocked, then don't try to block it. You can't play soccer with goalkeeper alone. It's okay for you to ask for help from other players.

I don’t care about keywords made up by people who don’t know me. But you know me, even if just a little. Hollow shell? That was harsh.

When rejected by the person you love most, when betrayed by the person closest to you—that’s when self-abasement begins. You hide in a space that’s all your own, and close your heart. I can’t just pass by people like that.

To that woman, a scar was like falling into deep water. The onlookers who don’t know the depth of that scar just wonder why she can’t swim out. There are so many people who belittle a stranger’s scar. She didn’t want to hear such empty words. At least one person... from one person...

That’s how it started for me too. Because I was curious, I’d get worried, then worrying would make me keep thinking of her, then thinking of her made me miss her.

To somebody, love is like medals or trophies, the result of a victory to boast of. To somebody, love is the process of waiting endlessly on for the other person, which turns into true feeling. To that woman, love is a secret she cannot allow to be exposed, not even to herself.

It hurts, sending your first love away.

Can’t you be a little sad? "It would be nice having you around longer. Your meddling caused me no end of trouble, but I’ll think of you sometimes." Can’t you say something like that? Even if it’s just to be polite, you could say it.

I'll... think of you sometimes.

There are traces of us here too in this neighborhood, on this road, don’t you think?

It feels like you’re right next to me. I just want to be with you for a long time. Then like that hat mark, my traces might remain. All you have to do is stay there, just like now.

Sometimes people who believed they’d just be passing each other by remain afterward in the heart. It isn’t until after the separation that the depth and weight of the encounter is truly understood. That woman believes that life is the repetition of that belated realization.

No. The reason I can’t leave is with me—It’s still okay, I can stop here, I can leave anytime—I was fooling myself like this. But you know me. Once I start a game, I have to see the end no matter what. I can’t end it here.

Why do people hate other people? Why do they treat them differently? Why do they want to step on the weak? There must be people who aren’t like that. Where are all those people? I thought if there were just one person like that, it would be nice. Since then, being alone was always more comfortable.

That woman’s door did not open for a long time. Invitations began to pile on her doorstep, two, then three. A person who came close like a new breeze, a person who blocks a gale like a shelter from the wind. For the first time, that woman grows afraid of her own desire to open her door.

When I looked at you, I strangely used to think I could hear your voice. But now... I can’t hear anything. I don’t know. I really don’t know.

But perhaps... Is it because of the traces? Is it because you’re afraid it’ll be painful after he leaves? That you won’t be able to forget him? Are you wanting to hide someplace where he’s never been?

I don’t think it’s something you can’t look for in others. Reasons to hurt, to be angry, to be sad—find them with your son.

Love is knowing the other person.

When people are overwhelmed with their troubles, they look for reasons in other people. That’s easier, but it never solves anything. People are weak.

You think you’re not like that because you keep yourself hidden away, don’t you? But you’re just like them. Other people hurt you, other people give you a hard time, so you run from them. Don’t lie and say my lectures helped. Nothing has changed. When I got into the accident, you were standing there. I thought you liked me too, just a little. I was wrong. I'll stop here. I'll disappear. So don't hide, and don't run. I guess I'm just leaving you with unhappiness. I don't know if I can return to the me of the past. I'm sorry. And be well.

Because people aren’t machines or toys built in factories, we’re special and complicated. Our uses, the colors of our hearts, our scents, our pressure points or weaknesses that hurt even when something grazes it—everyone is different. One must look for a long while just to make out their outlines. That’s why that woman doesn’t believe in fateful loves. She didn’t believe.

I liked you. Past. I like you. Present. I will like you. Future. I thought that it was complicated before. But now, I don’t really care. A person’s heart is never definite.

It was hard for you? Should I be comforting you? Should I say sorry? Transfer? How could I bring up a transfer to my grandmother who was barely holding on, waiting for me to graduate? The rumors that grew more each day, the lies, the looks that turned me into trash—that’s poison. I ate poison every day. DID YOU NOT KNOW?! I was dead then. I’m not pretending not to know you now. That girl isn't here anymore! SHE’S DEAD! SHE’S GONE!

Was I not enough for you? It was always just the two of us, but I was good with just you. More than ten friends, or a hundred, you were enough for me.

Do you know when is the best time to sharpen pencils? When you're narrow-minded. Think of the pencil as your wavering mind, and cut it. Then, like a miracle, you’ll calm down.

A sunflower that smiles up at the sun every day eventually turns into a little sun. A clamshell that’s been playing all day with the ocean gets patterned with grooves in the shape of affectionate waves, little by little. Things that are ardent grow together in likeness—that woman now understands this a little.

If I put my hand there, I can feel her, hiding away behind the tightly shut door. Is she happy in there? Someday, won’t there be a trace of my hand here on this closed door?

I’m not like Rapunzel in the story. I'm the witch who trapped Rapunzel. I'm not innocent, kind, and pure like the character you drew. I'm the opposite. I'm dark and grim and sharp. I don’t love myself, or other people. That’s why I shut myself away and didn’t intend to leave.

The wind and waves are breaking down the sand castle. That man can love the wind and even the sea. That man says that the sand castle didn’t break down, but it got infused. That man knows the method of healing.

Once. Just once. Can’t you say what you want instead of thinking about the other person? "Don’t go. Let’s find that dream here together." Can’t you say that? You were hurt. You said you were hurt when I left earlier. Then what about now? Now that we’ve come this far, can you stand it?

I think that's why I'm here, and you're in Dok Mi's heart.

How many meanings are there in the words I’m sorry? Sadness and scars. Misunderstanding and repentance. Regret and reconciliation. Innumerable feelings are mixed up within. That man believes that you can’t express your heart with one short word. 'Will you come to Spain with me?' What that man spoke was love.

Leave, so I can give up on you. If you can't leave... ask me to stay.

Maybe, I could have had a chance. I just regret that I missed it.

I try following that man’s way of laughing. I try seeing the world through that man’s eyes. I try thinking with that man’s feelings. To that man, love is seeing with both people’s eyes and feeling with both hearts, seeing the world more deeply.

So that’s what it feels like, waiting in front of the door that doesn't open and just turning away.

I didn’t know love. Love is something that people do, so you can be rejected or make mistakes... but I put love in too high a place, and just looked up at it. So I want to tell people not to be like me, to give courage to those who can’t confess, and I want to comfort hurting loves.

Don't you think the carpenter was only shaving off the hate he had for the person he loved? He was making the sharp feelings in his heart round and smooth. It seems like there is a huge difference between love and hate, but it could actually be really small. If you just take a small step away from hate, it could turn into love.

You said to try capturing the world. But... the first thing I captured was you. I knew while I was writing the picture's title "Her World". You are my world. This is my confession. I'm sorry for confessing only now. Thank you for becoming my world. I love you.

Will you continue being my world?

Sometimes, it'll rain. Sometimes we'll fight. Sometimes we'll hurt. But the world won't disappear. I'll wait until you come back after achieving your dreams. I'll wait, thinking that you are always by my side. Like how a sun rises and sets, I'll wait for you without a change.

I thought love was giving half of myself and the other person filling the other half. That woman thought her half was dark and shameful, and so she pushed love away. That love is taking an incomplete half and going towards completion... is something that woman only now realizes.

Love is a wind-up clock. When it’s shiny and new, it tells the exact time. But as time passes and you forget to wind it up, the clock breaks and stops. That man began to wind the clock, so that it would run a long time without stopping.

Knock on a closed door. Wrap your arms around a tired shoulder. Wipe away tears. Listen to the sound of each other’s hearts. Love each other like that.

One person can’t change the world. But you can become another person’s world. A warm, bright, and peaceful world. If all people could be someone’s bright, peaceful, good world, one becomes ten, and then a hundred, and the good world grows.

Official drama poster. Image via Tving.

Loosely based from a webtoon entitled I Steal Peaks From Him Everyday (Yoo Hyun-sook), Flower Boy Next Door is something of simple plot made complicated by a roller coaster of varying emotions, and is on another level character wise. And dialogue wise. It revolves around people and change, which is the drama's strongest point. It really wasn't about what's happening but how the characters behave and react to that which was happening. That accuracy with emotional interactions... I love how the writers were able to lay this out with so much depth.

Image via Newsen.

Plus, I've never been amused and interested with a secondary couple as I have been with these two below. Oh, I have. That robot couple Manager Kim and Dong Ah in Wild Romance. But seriously, isn't it ironic that the secondary characters get a story better written than the main leads? I'd swear I don't see these two NOT sell if their characters were cast in a drama of their own.

Yet candid as it is, nothing in this world stays perfect, as the old saying goes. As the story progressed several characters got dropped midstream, there are some whose characters didn't really go anywhere, and plot holes became more evident as the show neared its end. That, plus the succeeding episodes after the third quarter of the show went more like meh. Somehow, Flower Boy Next Door lost its momentum, what with going around in circles for three episodes for a conflict that could've been easily resolved by both of the main leads talking, instead of one throwing idiotic decisions out in the open. Had the writers been able to save the show from all those draggy circles, I would have loved it even mooooore.

On a lighter note, if there's a circle that I hate, there's also one that I love. Clever narrative circles! Not only does it show wit on the writer's part, it also shows keen attention to detail.

Scenes from episode one and sixteen respectively, where Enrique gestures that 'I've got my eye on you' bit that led them to finding each other.

These, too.

I love the role reversals. The realization on what both sides felt given the situation. The 'putting myself in someone else's shoe' bit. The understanding. Show, why are you so clever at these sort of things?

And the metaphors... I must mention the metaphors!

Bottomline: Despite the downhills, Flower Boy Next Door is such a feel good romcom drama. It provides for a compelling material where emotions are explored, where growth is rich, and where love and life is a simple work in progress.

Here's to learning to open the doors of our lives and venturing out, just like Go Dok Mi.

Image via Pinterest.

The hat mark is gone. Instead of it, there’s a picture of them together.
As time passes, the picture’s mark will be left, right?
A mark of not one, but the two of them.