Shin-hee and Ji-kyung met at the Hudson Yards mall in Manhattan. After setting down their shopping bags, they sat across from each other at a restaurant.
“Let’s have a glass of wine,” Ji-kyung suggested.
“Alcohol in the middle of the day? Why not,” Shin-hee replied readily. “All I have left to do is eat and go home anyway. Walking with a little buzz and humming a tune doesn’t sound too bad.” They clinked their glasses.
Ji-kyung stared for a long time at the deep red liquid pooled at the bottom of her wine glass, which was as large as a child’s head. After taking a deep sip, she finally spoke.
“Don’t you think it’s just too much? Spending your entire life with just one person. There should be a law to renew the contract every ten years.”
Shin-hee agreed immediately, as if she had been waiting for this topic.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying! No matter how 'good' a husband is, it’s boring and tedious to death. I feel like I’m trapped in a damp cave. I want to get out and live freely. Why didn’t I know this before marriage? If I’d known such terrible boredom was waiting for me, I never would have started.”
Ji-kyung leaned her chin on her hand and gazed into space with sleepy eyes.
“A while ago, I asked my husband, ‘Aren’t you bored living with me?’ He said no. The moment I heard that, I felt like I was suffocating. Do you know that feeling?”
Shin-hee drained her glass, the wine hitting her dry throat.
“Of course I do. It’s not even that I hate my husband; it’s just that I’m desperate for change. A few days ago, I worked up the courage to suggest something. I said, ‘If we break up, you could live with a younger woman. It’s better for you too.’ Do you know what he said? He said filing the paperwork is too much of a hassle. He doesn’t trust new women with his money and is afraid of getting scammed. It’s always about the money. He doesn't have the courage to trade his one and only life for a new one. He just told me everyone lives like this and to talk to him again in ten years, then he went into the bedroom. I completely lost my feelings for him right then.”
Ji-kyung’s eyes sparkled as she continued.
“Exactly! That’s why the law should give us a chance to renew every ten years. Then we wouldn’t have to fight in the mud over affairs or 'other women,' and we could just be cool friends with our ex-husbands. The law locks us into this frame. Oh, have you heard of 'Jolhon' (marriage graduation) in Japan? You stay married but don’t interfere with each other or split assets. It sounds so attractive. So I brought it up to my husband, but he just cut me off and told me to stop talking nonsense.”
Shin-hee fell into thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up.
“Is it Nicaragua? I heard that women there naturally form bonds with travelers. If a man leaves, they let him go without regret and start over with a new traveler. The woman needs a helping hand, the traveler needs a place to rest—it’s good for everyone. The children grow up naturally in nature. Even animals live together in peace without worrying about 'yours' or 'mine.' It’s a world with no jealousy, no obsession, and no possessiveness. Ji-kyung, you look skeptical, but that’s because we’re trapped in the 'till death do us part' cave. A world like that exists outside our frame. I heard this directly from someone from Nicaragua.”
Ji-kyung seemed to imagine herself in that strange landscape, greeting a traveler. She murmured dreamily, “So in a place like that, you could just be a person of nature, living peacefully without jealousy or obsession?”
Shin-hee smiled confidently.
“Of course, you’d have to fight the harsh environment, but at least you wouldn’t live in hatred, envy, and comparison like we do here. You’d live with the hope that when one man leaves, another connection will come. What’s the point of spending your whole life with one man just to be called a 'good wife'? The Nicaraguan woman is living a much more advanced life. When I told this to a friend in LA, she told me to wake up and that I was 'spoiled and talking nonsense,' though.”
Ji-kyung, now excited, emptied her glass.
“Even if it’s not Nicaragua, there are ways. I recently heard a lecture on Maslow's hierarchy of needs. The speaker mentioned a teacher as an example of self-actualization. She retired at 50, gave her husband half her retirement fund, and got a divorce. Now she travels Southeast Asia with just a backpack as a free spirit. She has an Indian boyfriend, and they spend the night together when they cross paths and part ways without regret. The lecturer said that is true self-actualization. I wonder if it’s true?”
Shin-hee nodded.
“It’s not impossible if you can give things up. But is that easy? Most people lack the courage, so they stay stuck at the lower levels of 'safety' and 'belonging,' bickering every day. They’re afraid of what others think and too lazy to give up their comfort. In the end, they just grow old and die without ever truly using their one life.”
Ji-kyung added bitterly, “The system is a problem, but so is a society that loves to meddle in other people's business. Why do they care if someone wants to live how they want? Whether it's divorce or an affair, who cares? They should just let people live freely. Even if someone dies alone, it’s their choice.”
Shin-hee finished the last of her wine and suddenly checked her watch. She jumped up in surprise.
“Oh my, look at the time! It’s time to make dinner. I have to go home and cook. That man... his temper is terrible when he’s hungry. I don’t know why he turns into a barbarian just because he’s hungry when there is food everywhere these days.”
“Oh, me too! I’m running late for dinner. Let’s hurry to H-Mart and grab some side dishes on the way.”
Ji-kyung and Shin-hee hurried toward K-Town on 32nd Street. Each woman picked out side dishes her husband would like. Then, they walked with heavy, tired steps—like flat soda—back toward the sturdy cave called "marriage," a place someone once said was a "successful life" if you could just endure it for 25 years.
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