Nothing to Prove

I have loved someone,

and someone has loved me.

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But in modern society, genuine love

and even a little humanity seem almost like luxury goods.

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Even that kind of love has become a very expensive outlier.

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Statistics say so. The people around me say so.

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And so do I, one young person in his twenties.

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Honestly, I wish at least one person

would not look at my abilities.

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What I can do,

how big a thing I can accomplish,

how much money I can earn,

how far I might go.

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I wish those were not the reasons someone loved me.

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Of course, I do not mean they must be unaware of my abilities.

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In fact, knowing is fine.

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I just wish they would still like me

after all of it had been stripped away.

‎

‎---

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For Koreans in their twenties, love is an expensive luxury.

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Because simply liking someone is not enough.

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You have to find a job,

earn money,

find somewhere to live,

and build a career.

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Once you begin thinking about marriage,

housing costs and income,

jobs and parents,

even the region you will live in

come between the two of you.

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At some point, love

can no longer exist through two people’s feelings alone.

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You must calculate even as you love.

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Can I build a future with this person?

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Can I afford to date now?

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Can we marry?

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Will there be enough money?

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Will we still be in the same place years from now?

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So when I think of each young person,

I do not believe pure love

‎

has simply disappeared from them.

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Most—no.

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At least most of those I have seen genuinely like someone.

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What most people lack

is the room to keep that feeling pure for long.

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“They do not have it.”

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Reality rules over love.

‎

‎---

‎

Liking someone is simple in itself.

‎

Wanting to see them from moment to moment,

‎

wanting to eat together,

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wanting to walk side by side,

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wanting to chat softly about nothing in particular,

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and simply wanting them beside you at the end of the day.

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Isn’t love really the sum of these things?

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Yet in twenty-first-century Korea,

people must secure so many resources

just to preserve this simple thing.

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First, you need substantial money.

‎

And substantial time.

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Of course, you need a stable place to live.

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Beneath all of this,

‎

you need to be able to plan a hopeful future.

‎

Love, whether ten thousand, a thousand, or a hundred years ago,

‎

“is the same.”

‎

But the conditions for experiencing it

are a very difficult reality for most young people.

‎

‎---

‎

Why do we try to succeed?

‎

We want money.

‎

A better job,

a higher position,

greater ability.

‎

But dig all the way down through those desires,

and these scenes appear.

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Eating good food with someone you love.

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When a family member is ill,

not having to hesitate because of money.

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Living where you want to live.

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Having the freedom not to do work you dislike.

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Spending enough time with someone you love.

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And at the end of the day,

returning to a safe home where a loved one is waiting.

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At the bottom of enormous desires

is something that the expensive cost system of twenty-first-century Korean life

‎

has thoroughly blocked:

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“a small life.”

‎

‎---

‎

Out in the world, you must keep proving your ability.

‎

What you can build,

‎

what problems you can solve,

‎

how much value you can create.

‎

The world evaluates people by function.

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Companies look at productivity,

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markets assign prices,

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customers look at utility,

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and society looks at résumés and numbers.

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Of course, for now,

‎

I do not think that is terribly wrong.

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Society has worked largely that way so far.

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And I am designing the system itself.

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Still, if this legacy system of 2026,

‎

this world,

‎

asks what I can do,

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I will answer in the legacy system’s grammar.

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But I wish at least one person

‎

would laugh at that grammar

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and simply ask, “What should we eat today?”

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That is what I wish.

‎

‎---

‎

Good love

may not be a relationship in which we rate each other most highly.

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It may be closer to a relationship where rating itself does not matter.

‎

Liking me not because I am impressive,

but simply because I am me.

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On days when work goes well,

‎

on days when everything goes terribly wrong,

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on days when I accomplish nothing,

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treating me as the same person.

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Even if my value in the world rises and falls,

the value between us does not rise and fall with it.

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Not a relationship unaware of each other’s abilities,

‎

but one that does not make ability a prerequisite for love.

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That feels like a pretty good love to me.

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‎---

‎

Until recently,

I was talking about very large things.

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Time and the future,

systems and the world.

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As soon as the conversation ended,

I returned to the work in front of me.

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Opened the laptop,

did what needed doing,

and handled one problem after another.

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Then a thought suddenly came to me.

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Ultimately, what I want is

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to eat together,

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come home together,

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and spend a fulfilling, ordinary day.

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And in front of at least one person,

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not have to explain

how impressive I am.

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Expressed in the grammar of legacy society,

‎

that would be “world domination,” “accumulating wealth,” and “designing systems.”

‎

‎---

‎

At the end of success,

there need not be only greater success.

‎

Perhaps only after going far enough

‎

does it become easier to have a place where I no longer need to run.

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Even if I keep proving myself in the world,

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at least from the moment I come home,

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I would have nothing to prove.

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Money,

ability,

status,

and potential set aside for a while,

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I could simply exist as one person.

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And someone beside me,

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someone I love, right there within reach.