HOW TO MAINTAIN ILLUSIONS

HORE OG MADONNA ²

Jeg vil ha det,
(I want it,)

men når du sier du elsker meg,
(but when you say you love me,)

tror jeg deg ikke litt du er bare full
(I don't believe you at all, you're just drunk)

Fakkit, det er bare tull.
(Fuck it, it's just bull.)

I cried again today. Not because of you... well, maybe a bit because of you, but mostly because of myself. It's taken me weeks to write this letter, and will probably take weeks more before I've finished. Maybe I'll never ever even finish. It's not like you are going to read this anyway.

It's probably taken this long because it hurts. It hurts reminiscing in our shared memories, and putting the indescribable feelings you evoked in me into words. I can't seem to get it right. And it just hurts so much. I wish you would tell me why.

Not knowing is tearing me apart.

I remember Yeosang, your ex-boyfriend, came to talk to me. He warned me about you. I didn't listen. Of course I didn't listen. You've heard the saying 'love makes you blind'? Falling for you made me realize how frustratingly true it is. Love made me blind, deaf, and stupid.

"I'm not trying to ruin anything, Jongho," Yeosang says. "I promise." He's frustrated, it's written all over his face. His eyes dart around the empty classroom as if waiting for Seonghwa to emerge from the shadowy corners.

"Why else would you be telling me to stay away, if not because you want him back?" Jongho's stance is defensive, but his tone is neutral.

"I don't want him back, trust me. I'm trying to help you, Jongho. He'll hurt you. Just like he hurt me."

"You don't know anything about me," Jongho snaps.

"No, but I know him. Just... hm, be careful, alright?"

I wish I had trusted Yeosang's words instead of yours. Because he was right, you did hurt me. But then again, we were young, dumb and in love. I can't blame you for all my problems, I'm just angry because you'll never understand the way you made me feel.

The first time I sensed something was off was two days later. You stood me up at a date to the movies. We were going to see Avengers: Endgame, and you knew how much it meant to me. Yet you didn't come. We hadn't seen each other all week, too busy studying for our finals. Luckily, a stranger noticed my sad expression and came up to talk to me.

"Are you here alone?" The boy asks, dimples decorating his cheeks, black hair swept back behind his ear.

"It seems so," Jongho sighs, taking a look around the emptying theater. "My boyfriend stood me up."

"Oh, that sucks," the boy says, looking genuinely sorry. "I had a date too, but I don't think she's coming. Want to see the movie together instead? I'm San, by the way."

"I'd like that," Jongho smiles, "my name is Jongho."

I saw the movie with him, Choi San, now one of my best friends and co-worker. But of course you were jealous. You made me delete his number. And I felt guilty, like I was in the wrong, when you were the one who didn't show up. You made me feel bad about myself, like I owed you something. That was probably the first red flag.