Love In The Mist

JI-AH POV.

I'm finally here. I never thought this would actually happen, but here I am-sitting in a cozy cottage in St. Ives, Cornwall, a steaming cup of tea warming my hands as I watch the soft, steady snowfall outside my window. The world is quiet, muffled by the thick blanket of white that's gently covering the cobblestone streets. The soft flurry of snowflakes, drifting like little pieces of magic, seems to erase everything. The past, the trauma, the weight of everything I've left behind-all of it is covered in this quiet stillness, as clean and pure as a blank canvas. And for the first time in years, I feel...relieved.

Relieved from the suffocating grip of my old life, from the anxiety that hung over me like a shadow. From the pressure of deadlines, the unrelenting routine, the unbearable noise of a world that didn't let me breathe. For the first time, I feel as though I can finally exhale.

It's surreal, almost dreamlike, sitting here like this. A little cottage tucked away in a sleepy corner of Cornwall, the gentle hum of Lana Del Rey's haunting voice floating through the air. Her songs have always resonated with me, and tonight, her melancholic melodies match my mood perfectly. There's a kind of peace here, a tranquility I haven't known in years.

I moved here just a month ago from Seoul, South Korea. The transition still feels fresh, like the ink on my old life's chapter hasn't quite dried yet. I was a cog in the machine, a corporate drone working at a soul-sucking company, where every day bled into the next in an endless grind. The fluorescent lights of the office, the constant pressure to deliver more, do better, be faster-none of it ever gave me a chance to breathe, let alone think about anything I actually cared about. There was no time for books, no time to paint, no time for anything except the constant rush. And that was supposed to be success, right? A climb up the ladder. But with every rung I ascended, I lost more of myself, and it was a loss I couldn't keep ignoring.