ᴛʜɪs ʙᴏɴᴅ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ || ʟᴇᴇ ʜᴇᴇsᴇᴜɴɢ [✔️]

🌸Whispers of the past

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

Home is where the heart is, but sometimes it's also where the heart hurts. Being home is like a warm hug, but it also squeezes tight the memories I've tried to forget. Being home is like looking at old photos - it brings back memories, but also reminds me of how much has changed.

~ Kim Nina

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

Nina's pov

As I stepped off the train and onto the familiar platform, a mix of emotions swirled inside me. My brief vacation had just started, but here I was, back home again. I felt a pang of love and nostalgia for my family, but it was tinged with a hint of sadness and frustration. My parents loved me dearly, but their love was often suffocating, wrapped in layers of expectation and control.

I thought back to all the times we'd shared laughter and warmth, but also the times I'd felt trapped and stifled. Our relationship was a complex tapestry of love, duty, and resentment. I loved them, but I also longed for freedom and autonomy.

As I made my way through the station, I felt like I was walking into a familiar yet fragile dance. I knew every step, every gesture, every word that would be spoken. But I also knew that one misstep could lead to hurt and anger. I took a deep breath, shouldering my bag, and walked out of the station, into the embrace of my family and the bittersweet memories that came with it.

I've always felt trapped in my own home. My parents loved me, but their love was suffocating. They were strict about everything - my appearance, academics, and behaviour. They wanted me to stay away from trouble, focus on my work, and not share too much with my friends. I felt like I was living in a prison, with no freedom to make my own choices.

So, I started rebelling in secret. I pursued my hobbies, wrote stories, and fell in love with K-pop boy bands. I did everything behind my parents' back, feeling like I was living a double life. I was afraid of getting caught, but I couldn't help myself. I needed an escape from the constant pressure and expectations.

When I published my first story, I was thrilled. I wanted to share it with my parents, hoping they'd be proud of me. But when I showed it to my father, he dismissed it as a waste of time. He told me to focus on my studies, that my writing was useless. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

That moment broke me. I started to hate studying, which had once been my safe haven. My mind went blank during exams, and I messed up my grades. My parents were disappointed and angry, but they never asked how I was feeling. They never considered that I might be struggling.

Things only got worse. When my 11th-grade marks came out, they accused me of having a boyfriend and not studying properly. I felt like I was drowning in their expectations and criticism. I knew I had to escape, so I told them I wanted to study outside of our hometown. They agreed, and I left, feeling both relieved and guilty.

Now, I'm in college, still doing things my way, but always looking over my shoulder, wondering what my parents would think. I have a bittersweet relationship with my home and my parents. I remember the pain and the struggles, and I know I'll never forget.