The Meaning of Liking
When I look back on my childhood, the first memory that surfaces—faint as a mirage—is of my mother weeping over a photo of a man, surrounded by people in black clothes. The man in the framed portrait was smiling, and to the little girl I was then, that smile felt strangely familiar. But no matter how much she called out to him, there was no answer. All she knew was that someone with the same face had been laid to rest in a coffin, never to appear before her again...
I realized he was the father I should call "Dad" when I started kindergarten, but the words from those who told me were laced with sharp thorns.
"I heard you don't have a dad. Is that true?"
"Hehe, I have a dad. Aren't you jealous?"
Children in their early years, before any sense of morality had taken root. To them, anything out of the ordinary was a target for discrimination, so they picked on the girl as an easy mark, isolating her. That mindset spread like a contagion, turning into group hatred, leaving her on the outside. She spent more and more time alone.
In those moments, the girl read books or lost herself in thought. That habit solidified even after kindergarten, carrying over into elementary school.
A quiet, timid child who sometimes spaced out but excelled academically. In a class steeped in that atmosphere, she stayed out of sight, quietly passing the time, and graduated without forming any real bonds.
Next came an all-girls middle school. There, too, she lived without interfering in anything, but her classmates disliked seeing her on the fringes and reached out first.
"You're always alone. Aren't you lonely?"
"How about hanging out with us? It'll be fun, for sure."
The first time in her life she had friends. Life with those classmates felt utterly foreign, but she didn't hate it. No, she actually liked it. They had pulled her from a life of isolation, where she couldn't bring herself to reach out to others—like rescuers hauling her from a pit. Maybe even savior was the word...
In that time, she felt her world expanding, sparking a fierce curiosity about everything. When something caught her eye and raised questions, she'd observe it intently, focus, think it through, and arrive at her own answers. Once hooked on a subject, she'd dwell on it endlessly. Before she knew it, as high school loomed, a new interest bloomed.
"I'm glad my daughter worked hard to get into a prestigious school... but it's co-ed. Are you okay with that?"
Co-ed. A new world where boys and girls coexisted. For her, it meant finally encountering boys—beings she'd never connected with. That became her latest fascination.
She'd lost her father before her sense of self had fully formed, then endured bullying without boy friends, only hanging with girls. What would boys her age be like...?
Dwelling on that day by day, on the entrance ceremony day at her new school, she met one such boy. A boy who saved her from another boy making her uncomfortable.
He was a stranger in her life, and she in his, yet he reached out without hesitation, pulling her from the awkward spot. The first time she'd received kindness from a boy her age.
From that moment, whenever she spotted him, she'd observe, lost in thought. Despite her shyness—even when he covered for her speech blunder at the ceremony, or became her seatmate, letting her watch him up close, or when they ate lunch alone in the classroom...
Yes, through those repeated moments, she'd come to notice him. But she didn't know why. Mere curiosity? Gratitude for his help...?
Everything felt so alien, filling her with confusion, so she focused on him more to understand her feelings. And new questions arose.
What did he think of her? What emotion drove his help?
Those doubts peaked when he saved her from a classmate's harassment. Sensing his aid again, her feelings toward him intensified.
I want to know. What this emotion was. Why her heart raced when facing him, why she couldn't tear her eyes away...
I like you.
Yes, not a trace of rejection. So it must be positive—a feeling people call "liking."
Probably... I think I like you.
She'd fallen for the first boy she'd ever noticed. That much was certain. A small trigger had sparked a connection, blossoming into feelings for him.
Yeah, because we're friends.
But why did her chest ache when he said that?
Friends...?
"Yeah, I think it's just 'liking' in the sense of being grateful and wanting to hang out as close friends."
Yes, "liking" has many meanings. From preference for objects to bonds with people—among family or friends. So varied that her "liking" might match his words exactly. A trivial start, shallow interest leading to friendship, nothing more.
Is that really it?
No certainty. He was the first stranger in her life like this; the feeling was unprecedented. All she knew was wanting to keep seeing him, her heart pounding in his presence.
Can that truly be defined as friendship?
No answers came, no matter how she pondered. Why that sting in her chest at his words...
Yes, naming it: pain. A subtle negative emotion, opposite her "like" for him.
She didn't want to accept it. In a surge of impulse, she surrendered her mind and body.
And she did it.
Before reason could judge, an act too intimate for mere friends.
I did it...
Realizing it, her heart thundered, cheeks burned; she turned and fled.
She hadn't expected impulse to drive that. She knew her feelings weren't simple "liking"—something deeper, heavier.
I really did it.
Not something for just anyone—hence, deliberate. Feeling the lingering warmth on her lips, that night she replayed it, clutching her racing heart.
And defined her heart.
I like... you. What she felt was surely like.
No matter the trigger or path, the result was liking him.
Yet even acknowledging that specialness, one question lingered.
But what kind of 'liking' is it?
"Liking" holds many shades and meanings. It might exceed mere friendship. Gratitude for his kindness, joy at his help...
Countless possibilities, but none certain. Her first pure crush in life.
To clarify it, she needed to explore this pounding heart more.
Someday, will a day come when I can name this feeling?
Her pondering would continue, certain an answer would arrive. Today fading, tomorrow, the day after. The boy she noticed was always there to meet.
*****
The first skinship of my second life. That faint sweetness from it kept me tossing in bed, sleepless.
I couldn't fathom why that girl did it—after just weeks, I couldn't imagine her harboring such feelings for me.
...No, triggers and processes vary by person. Even knowing that, the confusion stemmed from my inability to accept her.
Betrayed by people, fearing I'd betray others, wanting distance.
"Hey, you okay?"
A soft voice pulled me from past memories. Drawn by its familiarity, I lifted my head and looked at the one before me.
There stood a girl in a pure white dress... no, a lady of grace and beauty befitting the title.
"You've been quiet since earlier. Are you nervous?"
"Nervous...?"
"Hehe, that's unexpected. Even you, always so confident, have days like this."
Her warm smile, the voice tickling my ear as she spoke. As confusion ebbed, she took my limp hand, whispering her feelings.
"That's why I'm happy. It means you're taking today seriously."
Yes, she was delighted. Blessing our union at this grand celebration with all her heart.
Having shed her shy shell to become an adult, now leading me.
"Come on, let's go."
Yes, she was my lover. Chosen by me, by her—lifelong partner.
"We have to show ourselves to everyone in the hall."
Yoo Soeun. Once my seatmate, now my life's companion, walking the same path.