The Eyes Are the Best Part

by Monika Kim

It came up like bile, the need to say something mean and biting, the desire to cut her down for her stupidity. The want to make her feel small. But soon, that feeling gave way to sadness. I felt sorry for her. Sorry that every part of her life had been characterized by misery. Sorry that even now, she was suffering.

Her tears dripped onto my hands, onto the carpet; I watched them fall and had the sudden realization that our roles had reversed. Somehow, I had become the mother and she the daughter.

Fate can bring you together, but it can just as easily tear you apart.

I hug her so she can’t see that I’m crying, too.

What is it like to live freely, to live a life untethered, without having to be responsible for everyone around you?

And my name isn’t JW, for fuck’s sake, it’s Ji-won! The least you can do is say it properly!”

She’s better than me would’ve flipped out wayyyyy earlier. Learn her name!!!

there’s a framed picture of our family. It’s one of the very few photos we have together, from our trip to New York City and Niagara Falls. We look happy, almost unbelievably so. Were we ever like that? Is it really us in that image, smiling, our arms linked together?

Super funny our last vaca as a fam was Niagara Falls… weird

I feel like I am responsible for every unhappiness and injustice she has ever experienced.

“What are you, some kind of feminist or something?” “Yes,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I am.” “Bitch,” he muttered, before stalking off. She smirked as he walked away.

The only power he has is the power you are willing to give him, and you’ve given him nothing. Not a scrap. By the time you’re done with him, he’ll be begging for mercy. Who is he if he can’t control you? Is he even a man anymore? It will seem like a relief when you give him a hand, even if that hand is holding a blade. And when you take everything from him, you can say what these men say about us: He was asking for it. He was begging for it. He must have wanted it, since he didn’t fight back.

How do I explain to her that the home I miss isn’t a place? It’s a time when my life made sense. When things made sense.

“I know that the plant is pretty, but poison is everywhere, even in the places where you least expect it.”