You're so lovely.

I could kiss you. Maybe I will.

I think you are my echo.

It was as if all of the things I had shouted out into the world before knowing you had come back to me.

It's Christmas.

I hope that you find love. With all my heart.

Pretty young thing.

This won't kill me.

It's getting better.

I still think you're wonderful.

I'm putting this to rest.

I'm finding solace in the chaos. I'm making peace with myself and you.

I had a dream last night.

In which I woke up in my dorm room and saw him and another girl in my roommate's bed. I remember being in shock and watching them take pictures together. He hates taking pictures.

I remember leaning against my door, trying to just breathe but the tears kept coming and I had started to cry big, wailing sobs before he told me to be quiet. And that was what had done it.

I don't remember much afterwards except I kept crying, but it wasn't a crying I had ever done before. I was crying with my whole body, and I couldn't stop it at all. I stood there in front of the two of them canoodling, asking "Why would you do this to me?" And it wasn't him who answered. It was the girl. She gave me this blank look and said, "Do what to you?" Then I woke up.

I didn't know what had happened, but I found myself in his bed in his apartment and the shock of the dream still lingered. I remember yanking open the door to the living room and I saw him turn around, looking concerned, and felt something inside clank dully into place.

At the time, I didn't know why waking up was such a shock for me. But it's because, while dreaming, I had already gone through the entire cycle of being confused, denied, rejected, hurt, and ignored—and this had somehow followed me back into the realm of consciousness. He was sitting there in the living room, looking at me with a worried expression, but in my head all I could see was him and that girl. To wake up and find that I had gone through all that unnecessary emotion startled me and frightened me.

I guess this dream scares me because it's rooted in some deep fear that I have of not being good enough, of not having my feelings returned, of being something easily discarded. This dream was so scary because there absolutely no law of reality that dictates that this couldn't happen in real life. That's what set me over the edge.

That's what makes it hard to look at you now.

Kindness is not dead.

I refuse to be morally crucified for being a nice person.

So, I guess I'm twenty.

And I expected more from you.

I turn 20 in twenty four hours.

And I've never been more at a loss.

But what can I do?

I'm trying really hard not to be that girl.

I've made a delightful discovery.

It's called happiness.

So this is love, mmm.

So this is what makes life divine.

I'm walking on sunshine.

And don't it feel good.

Emotional turmoil.

I'm at such a loss.

Expecting the worst.

Hoping for the best.

I want you.

I want you so bad.

I can't help but think.

Well, at least he's being honest. And I wonder why you couldn't do the same.

I stand corrected.

What a charming, charming notion.

It only takes one.

One second, one glance, one too many drinks, one encounter, one sober text message.

To make me wish that this won't be just another addition to my trashcan of hopes too high, dreams too wistful, hearts too eager, and eyes too bright.

For once in my life, can I just get somewhere?

.... For once in my life.

There I go again.

I'm letting my imagination run off without me.

My life.

What even is it.

And you're so in love.

With falling in love.

And it's so precious. Really, it is.

I'm not convinced.

I doubt you are either.

This is becoming less of a fairytale.

And more of a chore.

You're losing interest.

I can see it.

9/11/01.

That is all.

It's a cruel thing, really.

To have to choose.

Who am I kidding.

This is all just a game for you, isn't it?

Going through the motions.

Maybe we're all just pretenders.

I miss you so much it hurts.

And you'll almost certainly say, "I miss you too, babe."

But what is this leading up to?

Decisions need to be made.

But I don't have the courage to make them.

This isn't helping.

1897 miles between Anaheim and Lansing.

Mistakes we knew we were making.

It might not be the right time

I might not be the right one

But there's something about us I want to say

Cause there's something between us anyway

I might not be the right one

It might not be the right time

But there's something about us I've got to do

Some kind of secret I will share with you

I need you more than anything in my life

I want you more than anything in my life

I'll miss you more than anyone in my life

I love you more than anyone in my life

Expectations.

I want so badly for you to prove me wrong.

It breaks my heart knowing that you never will.

You get in the way.

I find myself wondering why I still even bother. I know that eventually I'll just end up getting hurt. Nothing personal, it's just the way you are. It's just the way it started. It's just the some thousand miles apart between the two of us, the physical and emotional distance that nothing can ever cure.

It should be simple.

But then you ask me to Skype you at three in the morning. But then you come in after playing soccer in the rain and your hair is wet and sticks to your forehead. But then you Facebook IM me and you're a little drunk and you say, "I miss you." But then you're someone I never thought you could be.

And there goes my heart. I really can't help myself around you.

I can't.

Letting go.

"I hope you're happy in the end."

Getting restless.

Hungry for more.

Back in the States.

And I'm thoroughly disappointed. I miss Korea so much.

I think I care too much.

About people who aren't worth a damn.

So you're that kind of guy.

Well you know what? Maybe I'm that kind of girl.

官話.

I think Mandarin is seriously one of the most beautiful languages in the world. It sounds so exotic.

Especially Taiwanese Mandarin. I could listen to it all day.

This seems familiar.

Why do I always go for the same types? Is it the arrogance? The airs of luxury? The trademark smirk? The novelty of being swept away?

I used to think that I wasn't susceptible, that I wouldn't fall into the same trap that most girls do.

Look at me now.

Much needed distraction.

Seeing K-Pop idols from five feet away rather than through a screen is a quite surreal experience. Today's SBS Inkigayo was a very welcome change of pace.

It started with the pre-recording of Miss A, where we were let in early to see them record a non-live version of "Goodbye, Baby" about three times. Suzy and Fei are so cute and pretty! And Min and Jia have so much swag.

Then after waiting for what seemed like forever, we were finally let in as part of Infinite's fanclub INSPIRIT to go see the rehearsal. While we were waiting in the lobby, all the Boyfriend members came out and we got super excited and started waving at them. They were kind of shy, and just smiled and bowed to us. It was cute. Then Chunji of Teen Top burst out of a door looking adorably flustered and then ran off somewhere. Sometime after that, the rest of Teen Top came out and I was just dying on the spot. I called out to both L.Joe and Changjo and they turned around and smiled at me. Then ZE:A passed us and we tried saying hi to them as well, but they were a little more distracted than Boyfriend and Teen Top because the only ones who really acknowledged us were Kevin and Minwoo, who just kind of nodded and smiled.

After we were finally let back into the venue, we saw a bunch of performances. I'm so happy that I got to see Infinite, Teen Top, ZE:A, MBLAQ, 2NE1, After School, Boyfriend, Mighty Mouth, T-ARA, HyunA, and Miss A live and up close!

Infinite, though, was hands down the best performance of all of them. They were sharp and clean and slick as they always are. I tried getting Hoya's attention, but he was too focused on his performance, which I suppose is understandable. I might have caught eye with Myungsoo at some point, but I'm not really sure. Either way, they totally won me over.

On the way out, I saw Heechul from ZE:A in the bathroom (awkward) and tried to linger outside to wait for him to come out, but then I saw Infinite's Sunggyu appear from no where to hurry towards the rest room. He got really close to me so I waved at him and when he smiled back, I patted him on the shoulder as he passed. I have officially exchanged atoms with an Infinite member, guys!

Things were seriously getting monotonous here in Korea. Class, eat, sleep, maybe drink. It's nice to be excited again. Overall, this was a very good day. I'm still reeling over seeing these stars in real life.

Especially Infinite. Seeing my favorite group in person was something really, really special, something I won't forget for a long time. Those talented, gorgeous boys.

Contrast.

Experiencing relief like I've never experienced it before.

But at the same time, severely disappointed in myself.

What have I turned into?

"I'm not usually like that."

I'm such a liar.

And now you're twenty.

I don't know where you are, or what life has thrown you.

But I hope you're alright.

Happy birthday, Seth.

Yeah, I had my eyes on you.

Too bad yours are all over the place.

Experience told me it wasn't possible.

Friday evening he proved me wrong.

Sunday night I messed it all up.

I look at myself these days and think.

Who's that?

Somehow, I feel like I've lost a part of me here in Korea.

I still don't know if I want to get it back.

I really need to stop doing stupid shit.

As in really.

Worst mistake ever.

And it had to be in another country.

I might have just ruined my life.

Literally.

Simply put.

Korea 2011 = Best idea ever.

It's not hitting me.

That in half a day, I'll be in Korea.

I've been waiting for this moment for so long, it almost seems unreal.

I'm hoping it's what I dreamt it to be.

UCSB.

You've done me well.

.....

Well then.

Happy birthday Hansol.

I wish you all the happiness in the world.

It's sad to think.

That you could still affect me so. That you could still tug at my heartstrings and get me to do whatever you like. That you could make me wish for terrible, awful things made pretty by the curve of your mouth, by the slope of your neck, by the shadows that your eyelashes cast on your cheekbones.

You make me want things I shouldn't, but I want them so badly it's shameful. I thought that with time it would get better, but instead it's gotten worse.

And now that you're sixteen, it's even more maddening.

Oh, the things you do to me.

Composure.

Sometimes, I feel like it would be easier if I just gave in. If I just let the alcohol and the hormones do their work. If I just didn't care.

Sometimes.

Seoul.

I'm ready to be lost in a city where no one knows my name. Where bright lights flicker and beautiful people stroll. Where I can be different just by being me, where no one will understand the things I do or the things I say. Where I will be okay with not being understood.

I'm ready for the incoherent nights, for the pounding music and the smudge of bodies against bodies. For the hazy memories that will need piecing back together, for the gaps of time marked only by the pour of sweet drinks.

I'm ready for the smell of the city, for the crowds of people, for the feeling of being free to do whatever I want. For the distance it will bring me, the some thousand miles from home.

I'm ready to be in a country that's been calling my name for years now, to finally experience its splendor, to see if it's a place that I can spend the rest of my life in.

I'm so ready for you, Korea. I can taste you on my tongue, see you when I close my eyes. You're so close, yet so far away. I've never wanted anything this badly in my entire life.

Only one more month, and already I'm tired of waiting.

Sometimes, I swear.

Beautiful people are going to be the death of me.

For once in my life.

It'd be nice if it was mutual.

You're free to leave me.

But just don't deceive me, and please.

Believe me when I say, I love you.

Summer in Korea!

Things are starting to fall in place. I'm getting seriously excited.

I'm suddenly nostalgic.

But in no way regretful.

There's this thing called pity.

And I really don't understand why people actively seek it out.

I've been told that I'm way too hard on others sometimes, that I'm this frigid person who doesn't care about people's problems. That's not true. I just don't give pity to people who want it. Because here's what will happen when you pity someone who wants it. They're going to get the idea that whatever it was they were doing to get pity is okay to do, and they will do it again just to get more pity. And that is a cycle that is really unhealthy to get involved in, so why indulge them in the first place?

I don't know or care if that makes me harsh, selfish, inconsiderate, etc. But if you think about it, not everyone in the world will pity you. If you hand in an assignment that's two days late to your boss and tell him your sob story, do you think he's going to pity you? No, he's going to fire you. So allowing people to become conditioned to being pitied is actually pretty dangerous. So I'd say I'm helping people out in the long run. I'm not saying you have to be completely ruthless in order to survive, but sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and take the pain. There's really no other way to deal with it.

I don't know. That's just my two cents.

Don't get me wrong, I love reading.

But in a way, I feel that all the books and fics I've read have desensitized me to the point where nothing affects me anymore. Nothing feels original. If something good happens to me, it doesn't feel special because I've already read that somewhere in a book. It's almost like my life is a series of stories that are waiting to draw to a close.

Kind of pathetic if you think about it.

Andrew, I can honestly say.

That at one point, I kind of wanted you.

Too bad nothing can cure us now. Too bad you were fifteen and I was eighteen. Too bad I was too scared to do anything when I had the chance.

Too bad that nothing can make better this impossible age gap.

Dear Hansol.

Yes, they're back. All the pieces I've ever written about you or your brother are back online for the world's viewing pleasure.

The phone call I had with you in November was one of the most shaking things I ever had to go through, even though I know that, comparatively, it's not a lot. I couldn't write for days, weeks afterwards. I spent over a month with my fingers hovering over my keyboard, trying desperately to get you out of my head, trying so hard to write something without hearing the disdain and hurt in your voice. But I couldn't write anything. After what you said to me, after listening to you almost on the verge of tears, I couldn't write anything else without being afraid that someone would come along and be just as hurt by what I wrote as you were by what I wrote about you. And I hated being scared of writing, because writing is one of the biggest joys of my life. And I hate to say it, but I also hated you for that month and a half, because you were the one who took it away.

But now, I've come to realize that trying to hold onto whatever semblance of friendship we used to have is not worth giving up what I love to do. So I'm republishing those pieces, every single piece about you, about your brother, about people you know and people that I know. Because like it or not, they're some of the best writing I've ever done, and no one has the right to deny me that.

I broke the promise I made to you by writing about my friends Calvin and Wendy. You told me not to write about people anymore, and for the weeks following, I was so breathless in trying to keep that promise that I spent those weeks miserable and shaken and emotionally, artistically drained. I broke that promise because I couldn't live that way, I broke that promise to you because you broke your promise to me. You said you would come to me if you needed help, and you never did.

I tried to be your guardian angel, Hansol, and I suppose that's where my biggest mistake was. You never wanted help, because you were far too proud to stoop that low. And I suppose that at some point I may have loved you, but now I just feel sorry. I feel sorry that you can't stop and appreciate literature for what it is, for whatever happiness it may bring a person, for the happiness that it brought me.

So yes, I'm saying it. I don't care if you don't like it, but I'm putting everything back online. I don't care if I lose you as a friend, because quite frankly, I don't even know if what we had is worth calling friendship. I will miss you and the rare smiles you gave, I will miss the feeling of pretending to feel close to you, but I will not miss your contempt or your bitterness, the struggle you wage so intently against the world. I never intended for you to be so hurt by what I wrote, I never intended for anything to be accurate or true. I tried to make it fiction, I tried to speculate your life and your problems, but I guess it didn't work. You were stung and offended, and for that I'm sorry, because that wasn't my intention at all. But I have a right to display whatever I like, wherever I like, and you have a right to not read it. If you hate it that much, just look away.

I've wanted to write this letter to you for a long time, and now that I've done it, I feel so much better. Hansol, though you may hate me now, I just want to say this: You were the best inspiration ever. I've written things about a lot of people, but none of them have been as emotionally striking as the ones I've written about you. You inspired a lot of feelings in me, some sad, some heartbreaking, some wistful and some happy. And though I will continue to write about whatever I want, I will make you one last promise—I won't write about you ever again.

Happiness.

Is like a giant balloon filling up inside of me, about to burst.

Appreciation.

I'm starting to ache for people I never thought I'd miss, especially this much.

Late night, hunger-induced, and slightly delirious video chats are the best remedy to loneliness.

Getting there.

I'm finding my place. Happiness is suddenly easier to achieve.

(:

I hate the feeling you get.

When there's that tense and heated pause of fingers on the keyboard as you long to write, to write something—

But you don't know how to take that burn, that insistency and those tugs at your heartstrings. You don't know how to translate them into words.

I want to write something beautiful, but about what?

SD kids know how have fun.

Still doesn't beat SB, but comes pretty damn close.

Happy fifteenth birthday Justin!

I swear, sometimes you're the only one who keeps me sane. ♥

I feel like I give away a lot of love.

And I don't get a lot of it back.

Trying to be happy.

It's kind of working.

But you know.

I've always had a soft spot for you.

Oh, it's what you do to me.

Do you just read this and not care?

When you sat down next to me.

And I put my head on your knees and you your arms around my shoulders, it felt like everything was going to be normal again.

But then I realized it was just the haze and daze of Saturday nights.

Saturday nights, and nothing more. (You'll never do that if you're sober.)

"hi... are we okay?" I don't know, you tell me.

February, won't you be my...

.... Valentine.

I walk in a maze.

I'm spending my weekends in ways I've never done before.

And I think I kind of like it.

Sitting next to you in class.

Breaks my heart in ways you can't even comprehend.

What does this mean? What's another word for desperate?

And all I really want to do is love you.

A kind much closer than friends use.

"you just seem a lot quieter.."

No, Calvin. I'm just learning to keep my mouth shut.

Well, my general thought process is.

Hello, please read the fucking story I wrote about you.

But at the same time, I never ever want you to know.

"sorry i didn't know what to do when you cried :|"

When you cried, I didn't know what to do either.

I miss you, Calvin.

And then I wonder.

When will it be my turn?

I can see it happening, can see it maturing and growing. The intimacy, the closeness, the sheer proximity. It's developing into something that will drive me mad and I'm starting to think that I'll go blind with jealousy.

I had no idea I'd end up caring so much.

I want that closeness with someone too.



It's the little things that get to me.

And just when I thought I would never care.

I do.

I do a lot.

I swear.

I am the most socially inept person on the face of this planet.