"Jae-min."
When Ji-soo said my name, I closed my eyes— or pretended to. In the split second those two syllables sliced the air, a completely different face flashed across my mind. Restlessness caught in the corner of dark pupils. The left corner of his mouth lifting by exactly fifteen degrees.
‘Right now, the person calling my name isn’t me. Absolutely not.’
The Night He Disappeared
Jae-min pretended to be asleep. The clock read 2:47 a.m. Outside, rain came down in sheets. Ji-soo’s breathing beside me was deep and even. Soft forehead, loosened hair— and whenever I closed my eyes, his face appeared: Hyung-jun.
Hyung-jun had been my colleague three years ago, the one I used to smoke with on the office rooftop. Our fingertips had never once brushed. Yet his voice still clung to my ear.
“Why do you always smile alone, Jae-min-sshi?”
That day, instead of answering, I exhaled a long plume of smoke. Hyung-jun chuckled and said, “People with secrets are dangerous.”
I still remember the sentence. People with secrets.
Your Lips, My Name
Why, when we speak a lover’s name, does another face rise up? Psychologists call it the phenomenon of double desire: outwardly craving a stable relationship while inwardly longing for the very stimulus that could destroy it.
‘I love Ji-soo. Without question. Yet at the same time, I wish Ji-soo didn’t love me— so I could finally stop lying.’
Fourth Birthday
Last week was Ji-soo’s birthday. After blowing out the four candles, she closed her eyes and made a wish.
“What did you wish for?”
“It’s a secret.”
In that instant, I remembered: Hyung-jun and I drinking soju in front of the convenience store. It had rained that night too. Hyung-jun said, “We actually like each other, don’t we?”
I laughed and answered, “No.”
A lie. Or half a lie. I didn’t like Hyung-jun, but the fantasy that Hyung-jun liked me was electrifying.
Looking into Ji-soo’s eyes now, I whispered inside, Yes, you must have pictured someone else too. Perhaps you love me, yet what you truly want isn’t me.
Traces of Desire
Why do we keep walking toward the forbidden? Psychologically, it’s linked to self-destructive impulse: deliberately pushing ourselves toward situations that could ruin us. The terror that the one we love might betray us— and, at the same time, the pleasure that terror gives.
‘If Ji-soo loves another, what would I do? No— how ecstatic would I be? Maybe I could finally escape this dreadful lie.’
Thoughts That Aren’t the Name
While in love, whenever we speak a name, something other than that name surfaces. When Ji-soo calls me, I think of Hyung-jun. When Hyung-jun calls me, I think of Ji-soo. And in that moment, I think of myself.
‘Who is it, really, that I love? Or did I simply want to be loved?’
Lately, Ji-soo always holds my hand before sleep: quiet breathing, warm body heat. Yet I still keep my eyes closed, cradling all the thoughts that aren’t the name echoing in my mind.
Right now, when you speak someone’s name, aren’t you picturing an entirely different face?