In Love Forever: 1x07.
Seven episodes into In Love Forever, and arguably Runch and Neen’s marriage has never been in a worse spot than it’s in now, even though they haven’t brought up the topic of divorce again. Neen has moved out and set very clear boundaries on the conditions of her return: Kingkamol needs to move out. Runch is not yet in a position to fulfil this demand because it would cross a boundary to throw her mother out of the house when she needs a roof over her head, even if even Runch, at this stage, must be aware to some extent that this whole situation is entirely manufactured, that there is nothing real that is keeping Kingkamol from moving back in with her husband. She knows her father well enough to realise that he hasn’t actually kicked his wife out of the house, but her entire childhood has programmed her to be a filial daughter, and it would go against everything that Kingkamol has put into her head to actively kick her out now. I’ve been thinking a lot about Runch as a character – how frustrating it is to watch her, the dynamic of a character who is struggling to make a firm decision she herself knows she must make. In a way, this frustration drives the entire plot of the show: it all hinges on Runch’s fence-sitting, on how deeply embedded her role as a mediator is, how hard it is for her to make decisions that would be, above all, for her own good, for her own happiness. It might be frustrating, but it’s also deeply realistic. It might have seemed like she already made a decision after realising her mother was setting her up with Meilin, that this was a breaking point that changed her perception of her mother. It was enough for her to voice her deep disappointment in seeing her childhood hero transformed into someone she could no longer idolise because of her actions against Neen. But it’s not quite that easy to unlearn patterns, to find the strength to do something as unthinkable as cutting off her mother for good, and Kingkamol knows her daughter well enough to play her in exactly the way that would work the best. I think going into this separation from Neen, Runch genuinely thought that her mother had changed and made amends. From everything she has seen, Neen is the one who remained resistant against her mother-in-law who had apologised, who had made an effort to live together peacefully. She hasn’t seen the side of Kingkamol that openly admitted to Neen that this is all a front, a campaign against her. She hasn’t yet realised how manipulative her mother is, and the most interesting twist in this episode is that Runch ultimately asks Neen’s help not because she is building a case against her mother in some public forum, but because she knows that she ultimately needs this proof for herself: to see with her own eyes what her mother is capable of so she can solve the conundrum in her head, to help her act, to find the resolve. It’s the bravest Runch has ever been, making that request, because she already knows what she will find and what decision she will have to make at the end of it, she is just working out how to get herself in a head-space where she can finally find her own freedom and happiness.
The opening scenes of the episode perfectly capture how little room Runch has for herself to rest or consider or act. Her mother is smothering in her attention and affection, taking up every minute of her time, trying to assert her control through constant phone calls, asking for constant reaffirmations of her love. At work, she calls again and again, regardless of how busy Runch is. When Runch doesn’t pick up, she calls the assistant, with no awareness or willingness to concede that Runch exists as a person in other spheres where she needs to be able to focus. It’s overbearing, destructive: and then there is no chance for relief, because when Runch returns home, her mother dramatically waits for her on the living room couch, again asking for reassurance and confirmation that she is still a devoted daughter. It’s done under the pretence of enjoying this time that they are spending together, the first time they are this close again after the marriage, but it looks like suffocation. There is nobody else at home to balance it out, Runch is by herself, she is no longer returning to a home that has her wife in it to provide the comfort she actually needs. I think there’s something in comparing this overwhelming display of affection without any actual care for what Runch needs in the moment with how Runch approaches her attempts to make up with Neen, which are also not what Neen needs or has asked for. It should look romantic from the outside, the endless supply of flowers and desserts she has delivered to the office, but Neen has told Runch what she needs and it’s the one thing she can’t give her, and the flowers and gifts no longer work. In fact, it has gotten bad enough, for the first time, that Neen doesn’t even keep up the pretence of their marriage in front of others. Her assistant is well-aware that things aren’t going well because she is the one who ends up with the desserts, and Neen tells Runch to stop in front of strangers in the lobby of her office, which feels like not even her father’s request of remaining publicly amicable until the restaurant opening is restraining her anymore from showing just how unhappy she is (and even that moment gets interrupted by a phone call from Kingkamol which Runch answers, because she has been conditioned to do so instantly, and it costs her when she doesn’t – remember the one time she didn’t, when her mother actually needed her, the kind of lesson that is impossible to unlearn and would pop up every time she sees her mum’s name come up on her phone). Ling plays Runch’s quiet desperation so incredibly well – she’s never loud in her performance of being trapped and desperate, but it’s always obvious in her face what a toll it takes that she can’t get out of this situation unless she does something she can’t bring herself to do yet.
Throughout all of this, there is also a clear sense that Kingkamol no longer has any boundaries when it comes to her actions. She has become truly unhinged – to a self-defeating extent, because it has made her incapable of realising that Runch still has limits that she can’t cross. This completely irrational decision to throw out her engagement ring is not just over the top, but also the needle that breaks the camel’s back: to Kingkamol, it’s the ultimate attempt to test how far her power goes, to see if her daughter would accept this symbolic destruction of her marriage. It’s testing who Runch would choose at a point in time where Kingkamol should realise that all it could do would give Runch the resolve to finally act against her. The engagement ring is a symbol of a marriage that Kingkamol detests, and she throws it away just as carelessly as she has been treating her daughter’s happiness, disregarding entirely the idea that Runch is deeply unhappy about the separation, that Neen is her source of comfort. It breaks Runch – she’s never looked more broken than when she goes through the trash desperately, ripping bags, outside their house, becoming more and more frantic. The fact that Kingkamol is so unrelenting when she admits to having thrown away the ring, shows no remorse (“Some things shouldn’t be kept if it pains everyone in the house.”), just proves how far gone she is in terms of understanding her daughter. She doesn’t even consider what the genuine answer would be if Runch was free to choose, and uninhibited by her childhood programming. I think that Runch in those days of separation is maybe an insight into the state of mind she was in when she met Neen that the show has only alluded to when she said she maybe wouldn’t have been able to go on, and it also shows that Kingkamol has never considered her daughter’s happiness beyond her, as a person. To Kingkamol, Runch only exists in relation to her, not as an individual. As an act, throwing away the ring is so base, so mean, that it removes the blinders from Runch’s eyes. It probably makes her reconsider everything she’s seen over the past week. It brings back her friend’s words about how far Kingkamol would be willing to go to achieve her goal. And it changes everything.
Runch asks Kingkamol to leave but she again refuses, apologises profusely, promises to do better. Runch realises she needs more confirmation to steel herself for what she needs to do, and asks Neen for help (and gets peppersprayed in the process, truly having a hell of week). It shows a lot of personal growth that Runch knows now what she needs to find the resolve to sever the ties between her and her mother (it also feels like a very lawyerly approach, collecting evidence to build a case just to prove something to herself). “I want us to team up and get my mum to show her true colours.” And boy is Neen ready for that challenge. She knows that nothing would gall her mother-in-law more than playing the devoted daughter perfectly (“I’ll never go against you. I love you mom, I love you so much.”), showing deference while Kingkamol knows that none of it is genuine, all of it is in act, from her perspective to fool Runch, since she doesn’t know about the plan. Kingkamol thinks she can corner Neen by asking her to cook a four-course meal for her friends on short notice, but again, in her desperation, she’s misjudged Neen and underestimated her and perhaps conveniently forgotten that her family runs a restaurant empire (she does like to forget that Neen works) – instead of publicly failing as a wife and devoted daughter-in-love, it just gives Neen a chance to showcase how perfect she is yet again in front of her friends, indirectly humiliating Kingkamol and making it impossible for her to paint her in a bad light, like she was setting up to do. It’s a way for Neen to “win” that is also specifically targeted at all of Kingkamol’s insecurities about class and money – Neen has won here because of her privilege and status, her connections, and there’s nothing that Kingkamol can counter with. Like in the earlier moment where Neen showed up her mother-in-law by lending her her credit card, it makes Kingkamol snap entirely: once Runch has left the room (deliberately, to allow just such a scene to unfold), she puts Neen’s hands round her throat, playacting an assault, but what she doesn’t know is that Runch has put up cameras everywhere and is watching from the bathroom, and returning having collected all the evidence she needs to make a firm decision. “I saw everything, I saw what you did. I can’t let you stay here anymore.” Kingkamol already knows she has lost when she attacks Neen and Runch forcefully stops her, telling her not to lay a finger on her: because Runch was the one who came up with the plan, not Neen.
From Neen’s perspective, and it’s so clear from her face, this is the moment when the greatest obstacle in their marriage has finally been resolved. Runch has seen her mother’s true colours and chosen Neen, and chosen herself, her own happiness. She knows how hard it is on Runch, how much it goes against everything she has been taught (“I know it must be difficult for you. If you want to talk or vent, I’m always here to listen.”) but Runch just seems relieved to finally have some peace and quiet, to have the source of her happiness back. Their little get-away is lovely but it also serves to show who Runch is, with the greatest burden in her life removed, free to choose herself. There is nothing that is forcing her to “serve” Neen, but these acts of service are what she does naturally, how she shows her love and devotion. It makes Kingkamol’s twisting of these actions even more unbearable because it’s so clear here that this is just who Runch is: someone happiest when she can grill and peel prawns for her wife, and see her happy. It’s also notable that this is such a simple way of creating a beautiful moment that doesn’t take that much money – it’s well within the means Runch may have had before she met Neen, just a simple tent and some fairy lights, a gentle mirror of how she proposed at the beach: not with luxury, but with beauty created from meaning. This is the first time that we’ve seen Neen drunk, and I think it’s significant because it’s the first time that she’s been allowed to let go, not tasked with looking after Runch, not forced to keep up her guard. They dance to the song in their hearts (mirroring, beautifully, Runch’s dream – “just listen to my heartbeat”), and then they finally have sex without distracting themselves from a conversation they should be having instead – it feels like the first time that they’re perfectly balanced, with nobody being seduced or swayed, just so much desire and affection in both of their faces.
Unfortunately, Kingkamol has been given the unlikeliest opportunity to cause more damage. A dead-call from a television show that wants to invite her to talk on the topic of sexual diversity, as the mother of a daughter who has gotten married to a woman, and she immediately finds the most devious way to cause damage, victimising herself in the interview: as someone who may not be perfect but did her best to accept her daughter. She knows exactly how to twist the situation to destroy Neen in this public forum, to gain sympathy as the mother who loves her daughter so much, who has such genuine concern about her (“I just want you to have an easy life where you don’t have to sacrifice anything”). “If love makes you turn against your family I have no choice but to leave you alone and hope that one day you’ll understand how a mother feels.” She says what she would tell Neen is that “loving someone shouldn’t come at the cost of breaking a mother’s heart”.
The flashback in this episode serves as an explanation of sorts for why this television show would have approached Kingkamol in the first place, because it feels so out of the blue otherwise. Apparently Neen and Runch’s wedding was public enough that they were interviewed after about their love for one another. During the photo-shoot for the interview, Neen asks Runch to promise her that she can always stand by her side when she’s tired, that they will always be each other’s home. And then she explains exactly why she loves Runch so much later:
Runch is someone who makes me feel like I don’t have to try to be anyone. Normally I’m the type to overthink and imagine things, wondering if I’m good enough, But when I’m with her, she makes me feel like I don’t have to be capable or strong, and I don’t have to feel okay all the time. As long as I’m me, she’ll always be by my side. Plus, Runch is the kind of person who even if the whole world was against me, without asking questions. It just feels so secure to have someone who you can take a rest with, cry with, and dream of a future with.
Random notes:
I’m just taking notes of Kingkamol’s escalating willingness to use something close to physical violence here – the way she tries to pull Runch away from the bins is not gentle, nor is how she shakes Runch, and she’s been forceful before, showing what she’s capable off when she feels cornered and furious.
The pepperspraying scene is so funny because Runch is already so broken down that this is like the last straw, but I’m guessing it’s setting up a situation where Neen will be less cautious next time someone approaches her in a parking garage, which will become relevant plot-wise soon.
The over-the-top Pocky kiss Kingkamol walks in on is hilarious in the context of GL in a way that is hard to explain. It’s so over-the-top. IYKYK.
There is a lot of symbolism in the tide carrying away the sandcastle that Neen builds, the “house for the just the two of us”, and Runch promising that they can build a new one together – minutes before we see the relentless tide, Kingkamol, being given a new opportunity to erode her daughter’s marriage.
And talking about symbolism, the post-wedding interview with them comes with some unfortunate visuals, like putting Neen in that high-backed chair while Runch is on a regular one, making it seem like Neen is above her, visually: it’s a reminder, just like that Kingkamol’s interview, how the perception of the viewer can be (deliberately or accidentally) guided to conclusions that are inaccurate.






