han jisung

You remembered how your conversation with Jisung had begun, and then blossomed into a relationship. He'd bombard you with messages, listen to you talk about your dreams all night long, and wait for you by your window every Friday with two bouquets of flowers. His attention was so intense and warm that you basked in it like sunbeams.

But then everything changed. He didn't love you less, you were sure of it. It's just that his life quickly filled up with other things: his career, the gym, new friends. Your place in his schedule shrank to the size of a line on the calendar: "Dinner Wednesday, 7:00 PM. "

One evening, you were finally home alone. You were making his favorite pancakes, and he was... buried in his phone, scrolling through social media. You tried to start a conversation, telling him about a problem at work. He nodded, his eyes glued to the screen, and offered a meaningless, "I see... "

Your patience snapped. You walked over to the couch, took the phone from him, and put it aside.

"Jisung, I'm here. Look at me," you asked quietly, taking his face in your hands.

He met your gaze for a second, but you saw irritation in his eyes, not interest. He gently but firmly pushed your hands away.

• Enough. I'm tired, I just need five minutes of silence. Or better yet, an hour.