sooim lee

I lie on side in a cozy comforter, bend my knees as far as they will go, close eyes, and drift off to sleep like you're in your mom's arms. When I open my eyes, I see my husband's big face sleeping next to me, and my sleep is instantly gone.

I am happy to have a child and a husband. But there is no such warm love that I received from my mother. My mother listened to me and tried to do what I wanted. But my husband replies 'NO' unconditionally whenever I ask him to do something. I do not ask frequently because I know the nature of my husband. But there is something that couples must do together! Although He can change it to 'YES' if I make a strong protest, I get exhausted in the process and give up.

I took a walk alone on the beach. My husband, who was left behind was getting smaller and invisible. I used to look around for him if I couldn’t see him in my sight, but rather I'm getting feel free and easy. I suddenly felt like my steps were lighter and I wish I would disappear instead of going back to hm.

If I keep going away from him like this, what will happen to me? I heard there are a lot of people suddenly disappearing these days. Can I go until I cannot get back? Or will I walk into the vast ocean and disappear forever? The frightening surge of waves came closer and closer to me.

When I was a young, I was on my way in the evening, and suddenly a man who came from the opposite asked me, 

"Where are you going?” 

He is a complete stranger in the neighborhood. 

"Whatever others go, it’s none of your business.” 

I replied. Then I tried to take a quick step forward, looked back and asked, 

“Do you know me?” 

He said with a worried look 

"Go home early, not late at night.”

I look around want to hear a voice saying, 'Where are you going?' But nobody there. I turned around and took a heavy step to my husband who only shouts 'NO'.

The bright face of a friend gives of fascinating atmosphere. The foundation-stained face became a glossy face. The tangled back of her hair are shining like waves in the morning sun. Her lips glistens like a lotus under her red cheeks like a girl. There's something.

I'm a person who doesn't pry into other people's private lives and doesn't care. Even if I wanted to know, I just kept my mouth on it for a while.  The cheerful movement of the friend shines brilliantly and conveys of happiness.

"You're in a relationship, aren't you?" 

"The biggest mistake I've ever made in my life was marriage, and the best thing I've ever done was divorce. I finally met my ideal type. I can't believe we're meeting so late!"

Can we love even at our age? The power of love is great. Makes feel what didn't feel, and raise sagging feelings. It naturally gives the courage to abandon 'ego' and sacrifice for opponents even without trying.

"I feel sad to meet my ideal type man so late. " My fiancé said, "let's live happily ever after until 96 years old." 

The people next to us frowned at our joyful screams, but we chatted lively like an adolescent girl.

Why was I so excited about my friend's romantic love story? I am used to indirect love since I was young, and I have a hobby where I illusion other people's love is my love. When the cherry blossoms were in full bloom at the age of 23, I was excited to hear another friend's love tirade and we got on the train to Jinhae.

We visited my friend's boyfriend, who was an officer at a naval base in Jinhae. It reminds me of the scene where we were wandering around at the front gate of the Naval Academy because we were ashamed of soldiers' gaze. After that, the memories are faint, but the dark night sky, the men and women who made love with their heads together under the cherry blossoms shining like a snowflake, and my heart fluttered in the love of others.

I waited for bus number 78 to Itaewon. I waited for a long time, but the bus didn't come. The bus that came after a long time stopped far away. I run after the bus to catch, but the bus left.

I walked a long way to the house. I looked for my mother in the house, but I couldn't find her. When I asked my father, he said, she went to a temple. After waiting a few days, my mother didn't come back. I wandered around the mountain looking for a temple that my mother went to, but I couldn't meet her.

But isn't my mom in white clothes standing behind the bus, beckoning to me? I followed the bus with all my strength, but the bus went out of sight. I flopped down in my seat, cried, and woke up from my dream.

The classroom door opened and a student came to deliver something to the teacher. My heart sank. I waited as if I was sentenced to death. Then, I spent my school days breathing long relief if it's not about my mother.

While playing outside, I was worried that my mother was dead in the meantime. I had to check my mom first and then I put my school bag down. I used to listen to my mother's heart beating in my ears. Or I could relax only by making sure she was breathing with my hands under my mother's nose.

My mother lost a lot of blood when she gave birth to my younger sister, who is five years younger than me. And she suffered from a hormone-related illness. I still don't know the exact name of the disease. All I remember is my mother, who was always in and out of the hospital and lying sick.

I used to think I didn't know when my mother would die. If my mother recovered from her illness and whenever she went out, I followed after her everywhere. I used to follow my mother who went to a temple for worshipping. When she visited the relatives, I held onto the pillars of the relative’s house and waited for my mother to come out. My mom scolded me who follow her wherever she went. In spite of mom's scolding, I couldn't speak that 'I'm chasing mother for fear of mom dying.' It was easier to keep my mother close and wait for her than to worry about her while she was away.

As I got older, I left my mom because I thought I had to go my way. At first, I often called and wrote the letters, but I was busy living. My mom, who was standing behind the bus in white and waving, must have come to me to say goodbye before go to a place far away where we can never see again.

It's been raining all day. Why do I have so many thoughts on days like this?
Where was it? Was it Ttukseom in Seoul? After breaking up with the man I was dating, I walked along the side of the Han River without an umbrella even walked to Itaewon. Now memories of him faded into thick fog. The rain, flowing through my hair, moistened my cheeks, and pierced bitter chest. The only vivid memory was of trying not to miss the wet shoes that are trying to get out of my feet.
A woman who caught my eye waiting for a car in the rain with a man I know. 'Where did I see her?' Although she is a woman I've seen a few times, I'm confused because every time a man with her, it's different. My eyes always hang about her because every time a man is no stranger. She looked conscious of me, too.
At the beginning of my marriage, our couple lived with a roommate together in Soho, Manhattan. All the acquaintances that knew us came in and out of our studio like they own. Not only their friends but also their girlfriends were in and out. Some of them even lived on the dingy gray couch in the middle of the room until they came to New York and found a place to live.

There was an unkempt kitchen under our bedroom on one side of the big studio. Some women used to show off their cooking skills with grocery they bought in Chinatown. Tired of the dark, gloomy, and bustling life, I sneaked up into the bedroom above the kitchen, whenever I could. I used to lie down on my side and listen to the sound of cutting boards. Even now, the story of a woman I met with my roommate several times is vivid in my ears.

It was the sound of a woman who didn't know I was lying in the bedroom above the kitchen, telling my roommate who was helping her beside her. The woman, who works at a Japanese restaurant, began to talk, "The taste of beef varies depending on the part,' she said. After all, the core of the story was that "Soo Im Lee is unattractive like the most tasteless part of beef. I have lived with my husband for nearly 30 years even if 'I am a tasteless person.' With all her charm, why did she get dumped by our roommate?
Why does it occur to me that she is a woman who was dumped by my former roommate? Am I mistaken? It's a long time ago, so it's not clear, but the way she looks at me and exudes an atmosphere that is so similar.