Why Did He Always Step Back From Love? – Ahn Jeong-won from “Hospital Playlist”
There’s a quiet sadness about Ahn Jeong-won.
He carried the things he couldn’t hold in his eyes, deep inside his heart, and returned to the world as if nothing had happened. Though he seemed to live without burden, he accepted sorrow, duty, and love as if they were simply parts of life.
He feared falling apart the moment he expressed his feelings. So he always stepped back in silence. It wasn't that he disliked love—he just didn’t know how to hold it.
He cherished community and service, but the intimacy of romantic love was something he couldn’t navigate. That fear had roots. Since childhood, he had dreamed of becoming a priest. To love someone felt like a betrayal— of his beliefs, of his mother’s expectations, and of the scars carried by his siblings.
His mother urged him to stay and take over the hospital. He, instead, wanted to care for people in his own way. Trapped between others’ dreams and his own, he learned to retreat, quietly, from the life he truly wanted.
He did the same with Chae Song-hwa. The closer her warmth and kindness came, the more he distanced himself. Not because he was afraid of her, but because accepting love felt like letting someone else down.
He kept love at a distance. And even knowing that hesitation might cost him, he chose silence over confession. So instead of saying “I love you,” he said, “Maybe I should become a priest.”
But he couldn’t go through with that path either. He couldn’t give up love. He couldn’t give up his calling. So he stayed at the hospital— hoping he could protect others and maybe, someday, let himself be loved.
He held the hands of young patients. He patted his brother’s shoulder. He didn’t use words, but his kindness revealed what he struggled to say.
He never said, “I love you,” but every time he smiled, you could feel it— the depth of all he left unspoken.
He always stepped back, but not once did he turn away from love.
What he couldn’t show in words, he showed in his silences, his gentle hands, and in his quiet prayers.
It was, in the end, love— delayed, tangled, and finally, allowed to bloom.
