Lovers in mind

Song Hye-kyo is my husband's mistress. Lee Byung-hun is my lover.

Years ago, someone handed us a DVD of the Korean drama All In, starring Song Hye-kyo and Lee Byung-hun. My husband and I watched it together—and ever since, we haven’t been able to enjoy any other drama. We literally went all in on All In. Why? We’re not exactly sure. Maybe because it was the very first Korean drama we ever watched after moving to the U.S. Like a first love, it stuck with us. No matter how many people recommend other shows, we just can’t get into them. Nothing has captivated us the way All In did. We even fell in love with the soundtrack—“Like the First Day” and “It’s Okay, I’m Fine”—and still listen to them often.

To confess: since getting married, I’ve never once had eyes for another man. Not that I can’t spot a handsome one. Even with my glasses on, I can sense a good-looking guy from far away—maybe it’s my artist’s intuition. But if he’s not mine, I don’t even bother. “Don’t reach for the tree you can’t climb,” they say.
So I just turn away.

I don’t have proof, but I’ve chosen to believe my husband hasn’t cheated either. Let’s be honest—neither of us is exactly “hot stuff.” So, we agreed to allow each other one imaginary lover.
My husband teases me:
“What do you see in Lee Byung-hun and his big head? That playboy?”
Still, I like him.

And I like Song Hye-kyo, too—especially now that my husband has started admiring tall Choi Ji-woo. It’s kind of like in the old days when a husband had mistresses, and the wife and the mistress would end up bonding over shared struggles. Something like that.

When we went to Jeju Island, we even tried to visit the white house shown in the final scene of All In. But the house had been blown away by the wind and no longer existed. We visited the church where Song Hye-kyo's scenes were filmed instead. Feeling a bit let down, I chewed on sea squirt and sea cucumber while sipping soju. The waves below the cliff looked like they were about to rise up and swallow me.

As I wandered around looking for that house, I noticed a group of Japanese women doing the same. They looked lost and disappointed, searching for the spot where the house used to be.
And suddenly, I realized—I’ve become one of them. I used to laugh at those Japanese “Yonsama” fans… and now here I was, joining their pilgrimage.

I wish I could still have a passionate, electric kind of love even at this age. But I do remember clearly that on our wedding day, the pastor asked:
“Will you love each other faithfully until your black hair turns white?”
And I answered loudly:
“Yes.”
Maybe I said it so confidently because I finally felt relieved—no more need to search for a husband.

Most newlyweds are too busy with their honeymoon to remember the vows they made, and maybe that’s why so many end up divorcing. But I didn’t go on a honeymoon. So those words—“love each other faithfully until your hair turns white”—have stayed with me.

If someday my husband loses his memory and forgets his love for me, maybe I’ll rethink things.
But for now, I continue to live like the first day, just like the song from All In.