"You look beautiful again today. I’m so lucky to have such a pretty wife." Jisoo smiled gently, smoothing the shirt on the pillow. The faint smell of menthol patches clung to her skin, but he had once told her he loved even that scent. 7:02 a.m.—the morning had to unfold in this exact order. Grind 15 g of beans, warm 200 ml of organic milk, and never let a single hair on her husband’s head fall out of place. Jisoo sat at the foot of the bed, watching him pull on another layer of cashmere. "My team is begging to meet you," he said. "They say your brunch photos on Instagram are legendary." Jisoo kept smiling, but inside she repeated, If I die, could I still cook him every soup he never tasted?
Two Drawers
Beneath the bed, one drawer holds a dark-navy box stuffed with instruments of departure: a tidy will, digital certificates, life-insurance policies, and photographs already arranged. In the drawer just above lie sleeping pills for her husband, the prescription marked for safe rest. The self hidden inside the label "better person" was drafting a plan to murder the other self.
A Black Script on White Sheets
For three years, Jisoo has written the same nightly scenario:
- Cause of death: presumed traffic accident.
- Press release: fixed as influencer who spread only kindness.
- Hashtags: #love_you_forever #forever_shining.
She has already composed the post that will become her final Instagram image: white roses in morning sunlight. The caption reads, Everyone, I am happy right now. Yet in truth the black blotches spreading across her body were growing larger every day.
Anatomy of Desire
Why do people rehearse ruin while pretending to be "better"? To uncover the reason, one must first pierce the eyes in the mirror. Behind them waits fear:
- Fear that someone will contradict the whisper, but I am special.
- Fear that the label just an ordinary person will force her to abandon herself.
That fear distilled into the arsenic of perfectionism.
Story That Could Be Real 1: The Tragedy of the Picture-Perfect Family
2021, Daechi-dong, Gangnam. The household everyone called the little prince’s family. Every morning the mother posted on her daughter’s Instagram: Another happy day for our family. Yet she hid the note she found in her daughter’s room:
"Mom, when I die, I hope you won’t cry. If you do, I’ll know I failed."
Since that day the mother has left her daughter’s room untouched, and each night she copies the note afresh, beginning the same chain of guilt: If only I had been better…
Story That Could Be Real 2: What Hid Behind the Brunch Photo
Lee Sujin, thirty-three, advertising team leader. Every Sunday she uploads her healing brunch: eggs Benedict, basil-tomato sauce, spinach salad. But behind the lens, the refrigerator holds a postponed suicide plan:
- Date: the day after Daniel’s birthday (so he’ll feel guilty enough).
- Method: sleeping pills + wine (same brand in the photo).
- Final image: Daniel’s arm linked through hers.
She loved Daniel, yet that love was always conditional on being "the better person.” To love was to demand constant allegiance, and in the end it became the weapon that destroyed me.
The Scent of Taboo
Why can’t we look away from these stories? Simple: their desire is our desire. When we praise someone as flawless, we secretly burrow inside, hunting for the single blemish to erase. Once it vanishes, we tether them with a leash we can never loosen.
Final Question
At this very moment, what lies in your drawer? And when you open it, what will the hushed other-you whisper back?