In Love Forever – As a wife, you’re the worst.

In Love Forever: Episode One.

In Love Forever begins with Runch and Neen in the bedroom. There’s a dreamy sense of unreality even before the moment is revealed to be a dream: the lighting is captivating, the theme song from the title sequence repeats, transporting the viewer right into the story. If you had read the novel, it would be a moment of slight disorientation: at what point in their relationship are we entering here? If you hadn’t, you would just be drawn in by the clear intimacy and closeness, the sense of longing. The fact that it is a dream – Runch’s dream, which is cruelly interrupted by a phone call from her mother – twists the whole meaning of the scene. Here’s Runch, portrayed to have lost control in all areas of her life, a character that we will see taken apart in this first episode, asserting control, asking for what she wants, placing Neen’s hand where she wants it, asking Neen to let her be in charge (“Will you let me set the melody for us tonight?”). Even the deeply romantic “You don’t have to talk. Just listen to my heartbeat” gains more meaning through the lens of a dream: Runch is a character who finds it impossible to talk about her emotions with her partner, which is the whole crux of their failing relationship, but here she is voicing that all of her love and feelings can be conveyed if only Neen “listens to her heartbeat”, or gains a deeper understanding of her not through words but through trust and closeness alone (when in reality, Runch’s inability to express herself leads to misunderstandings and misinterpretations). To Runch, what should get them through, what should keep their relationship alive, is the depth of their feelings. And then, the phone goes off, Runch wakes up to the empty space next to her on the bed (there seems to be a blissful moment right before the reality of her own life catches up with her), not even safe from the intrusion of her mother in her own head – it’s a masterful way of showcasing how there is no safe space for her, not in her house, not in her relationship, not even in her dreams. It’s a claustrophobic sense of overwhelm and exhaustion that continues through the episode and escalates as we follow her through  other spheres of her life.

“Overwhelmed” and “exhausted” are the two emotions that define Runch’s entire life. There’s such urgency, from the beginning of the episode, to act, and yet so little space for her to do anything. The boundaries she has tried to establish with her mother fail because Kingkamol disregards them: she is meant to call before coming by the house (clearly so Runch can separate her from Neen), but her mother calls when she is already at the gate, ready to launch. Her entire body language speaks of a character ready to attack: she suspiciously looks around the house as if scanning for Neen, she is judging every aspect of the situation like she is looking for more fodder to criticise. It’s hidden behind the supposed maternal motive to feed her daughter breakfast, but none of it is meant to actually provide comfort for Runch (this scene works perfectly as a contrast to how Neen’s mother treats her daughter-in-law later at the family dinner): instead, the lunch box is an indirect attack on Neen, who doesn’t cook for her daughter, her early appearance on both of their days off is an opportunity to criticise them both for sleeping in on their day off. The way that Kingkamol directs this at Runch – “since when do you sleep in” – gives us such an insight into how she was raised, the expectations that she would have carried on her back all of her life, as well as the sense that the mother’s biggest fear is Neen’s influence over her daughter, the idea of her daughter changing for her wife, and no longer being under her control. As Kingkamol begins her tirade against what she perceives as Neen’s inadequacies as a wife (and person, in general), she reveals all of her own insecurities: Neen was raised with money, didn’t have to struggle to rise in the world like she has raised her daughter to. Her accomplishments mean less because they weren’t achieved through suffering, and therefore she is not worthy as a wife. All of this, in the first minutes after waking up, and all of this, almost every day of their relationship, as the story implies, with Runch desperately trying to change the conversation when it veers off into hatefulness but Kingkamol always steering it back. “Who cares if if your wife doesn’t take care of you? I can do it too”.

And then Neen herself emerges, with the perfect character entrance: down the stairway in her revealing nightgown, clearly having overheard the conversation and gone through this whole ordeal many times before, and primed for attack. What I find so fascinating about Neen after just this one episode is that she is so much better at this than Kingkamol, whose attacks are scattered, vague, and don’t quite hit their target: as much as she criticises Neen for not taking care of her daughter like she would want her to, Runch seems perfectly happy with their chores being divides as they are. Runch wants to take care of Neen, as she does throughout the episode, it’s how she shows love. The attacks on her “skimpy” clothing fail too, because they are exactly what her wife picked for her (Neen says that Runch likes that they are easy to take off, which is so perfectly aimed to enrage her mother-in-law that it’s truly masterful – as is the way she snuggles up to Runch, play-acting their intimacy in front of her). Neen isn’t bothered by the comment, but by Runch’s lack of defence of her, by her inaction, by her attempts to act as a mediator between someone who is insulting her and the person she is meant to prioritise. But Neen’s attacks always hit right where Kingkamol deepest fears lie: she can cook for her daughter and think that it is driving a wedge in their relationship to provide for her in the way she thinks that a wife should be providing for her daughter, but she can do nothing about what Runch desires, can do nothing about the precise thing that draws her to Neen (I would say that the final scene of the episode, which showcases their first meeting, captures that she is very much drawn to how confident and assertive Neen is). Later on, Neen’s precision attack on Kingkamol’s self-consciousness about her social status is a second example of how perfectly targeted Neen’s retaliation is: it hits Kingkamol exactly where she is at her least confident, most insecure. Neen marks her territory, asking “what are you doing in MY house so early”, because her parents bought the house, and Kingkamol is the uninvited intruder. Her biggest fear is losing control of her daughter, who is meant to be only “submissive” to her (and so Neen’s comments about Runch’s submissiveness to her make her gasp in fury). Kingkamol is all rage, with scattered broadsides, Neen is a calculated cruise missile never missing her target (and watching Orm play this character so perfectly is pure joy). It’s exactly because her arsenal is so limited that Kingkamol’s violence in the episode is already shown to escalate: she has nothing else to revert to. In this scene, she raises her voice, ready to lunge, before Runch asks her to leave and basically drags her back to her car – while Neen provocatively opens her bathrobe a little bit more and pushes her chest out, laughing in her face. Runch is caught in the middle, and all she has, caught between two warring paradigms (defending a mother who asks for complete devotion, defending a wife she deeply loves) that cannot be reconciled. She says sorry, repeatedly, her voice breaking more each time, her face becoming more and more dejected, while Neen gets angrier the more sad Runch gets, because the apologies don’t offer any solutions. Neen is furious about Runch’s inertia, and raging against Runch’s instinctual defence of her mother when she begins calling her names. 

Neen: You’re just so good at everything. Everyone admires you. You have a great career, and you’re good at your job. You seem so great to everyone. But you know what? As your wife, who is in this relationship with you, I think you’re the worst. I regret it. I regret nothing more than deciding to marry you. If I could turn back time I would never have married you.

I don’t think she could have put it more devastating than that: not just that she wants to divorce, but that she regrets every part of their relationship. She isn’t furious because this is breaking their relationship: from her perspective, the relationship was already broken from the beginning (which is why I think that Runch is the one who has to remind her about the cafe being “theirs” – Neen is making herself not think about all the reasons for why she fell in love with Runch, while Runch thinks about it constantly). And the subtext of this is interesting too, because from everything we will see later in the episode, it’s clear that she has a completely warped perspective of her wife’s life – exactly because Runch never tells her about her feelings and problems. It looks perfect from the outside, but Runch is caught in an approximation of hell here, where every aspect of her life is out of control and failing, with nobody to talk to about it. I think it’s significant here also that Runch only cries when she is alone and unobserved, while Neen shows her feelings openly. A flashback to their conversation about divorce also shows Neen asking Runch to “pretend to be in love” for the period of time they are forced to remain together for the company’s image’s sake, a statement that they both interpret wildly differently going forward.

The only person she can talk to about what is happening is her friend Natee, who is overseas. Neen gets to meet up with her friends and vent about her mother-in-law in person, with a full support network (although they seem to be partly on Runch’s side still, to her frustration, cautioning her to be careful – but she can’t tell them yet that they are getting divorces, as per her father’s request). It’s the only conversation in this episode where Runch voices her thought process clearly. It’s the kind of conversation she should obviously be having with Neen, but can’t bring herself to. In this conversation, she explains that the decided to ask for the divorce because she feels like she is hurting Neen, that she is destroying something innocent in her because these fights are making her act “tough” – if “She’s got that childlike look in her eyes, like a child who feels hurt and unaccepted” doesn’t break your heart… Runch sees the divorce as an act to protect someone she will never stop loving, which reveals so much about how she sees herself, how little she values herself. It’s also such a self-destructive instinct – this is Runch falling into the kind of deep depression that makes her believe that the person she loves the most (and the person who loves her the most) is better off without her in her life. The conflict in her life, between what her mother asks of her and what her wife rightfully expects of her, appears irreconcilable to her, so she has come to a solution that causes herself the most harm – it’s like cutting a Gordian knot but also cutting your own arm off in the process.

Runch: I really love Neen, so much that I’d walk away from this relationship myself. This way, I won’t hurt her anymore.

This conversation with Natee is also important because as much as Runch makes it clear here that she loves Neen, Neen repeatedly, over the course of the episode, seems to assume that Runch doesn’t love her anymore, making it clear that Runch has very much not communicated any of this to her wife, has made a lot assumptions, and made a decision about both their futures based on her own lack of self-preservation and absolutely wrecked self-confidence.

In a way, it’s almost more devastating that the only genuine scene of care for Runch happens at dinner with her in-laws: this is part of what she is liable to lose in the divorce, and it is such a stark contrast to her own family life that it might as well be a different universe. It’s the first time anyone acknowledges the toll that this is obviously taking on her (with Neen’s mother encouraging her to eat more asking about if she is getting enough rest, and Neen’s dad noting that she has lost a lot of weight, none of which her own mother has bothered to notice). Even though Neen’s parents know that they are getting divorced once the four months pass, Neen’s mother tells Runch that she will always be a second daughter to her, that she loves her like her own daughter. When Neen’s brother gets her drunk (taking petty revenge on her), Neen’s mum is the one who holds her and directs her daughter to pat her down (GENTLY!) with a wet towel – and it’s the only moment in the episode, I think, where Runch gets any form of physical comfort that isn’t given as pure showcase for an audience, the only occasion when Neen still touches her. The swift cut between her first sip and her passed out on the couch is played for laughs (and works), as is Neen’s exasperation both with Runch’s decision to drink even though she’s a light-weight and her anger at her brother for goading her, but it’s kind of heartbreaking to watch a character so desperate for comfort receiving it from the one person who has every reason to reject her yet loves her regardless. Once she’s drunk, she’s like a puppy – desperate for affirmation and care, happy to receive it even if Neen (who seems kind of charmed by her helplessness against her own will – or like she’s only willing to show it where Neen probably won’t remember it) is scolding her. When she asks Neen for more once they’re home she’s rejected (with the pain of the rejection visible more in Neen’s face, like she’s struggling with it as well), because they’re “not the same anymore”.

Returning back to Neen’s request to “pretend” they still love each other, Runch spends the remainder of the episode reminding Neen exactly why she fell in love with her in the first place I think, with all of her little acts of service, her insistence on helping her, driving her to work when the car fails, making a nostalgic trip to the coffee shop where they met (where Neen gets furious at Runch lingering with a barista she has rapport with, clearly showing jealousy, and devastatingly showing her possessiveness through asking her for public displays of affection that are, again, the only kind of affection she is getting anymore from her wife). They are on a collision course here because Neen is getting hurt by being reminded of what they had while Runch sees it as “wanting to part with good memories”, and of course, her intentions are genuine because she does still love Neen, but Neen considers it emotional manipulation because she believes that Runch doesn’t love her anymore. You can tell the depth of her confused and hurt feelings when she cries over the breakfast Runch has lovingly prepared for her, anticipating she wouldn’t want to see her after their fight, but still leaving a note that showcases how well she knows her. And of course, they don’t talk about any of this.

The scene in the shopping centre between Neen and Kingkamol is set up masterfully: they approach each other from around the corner, unable to see each other, Kingkamol with her two friends, Neen by herself, with the conversation between the mother-in-law and her friends setting up the context: they are considering buying a scarf that is expensive. As I’ve said before, Neen is so good at attacking Kingkamol where she most vulnerable, and this scene gives her a massive opportunity to do so. Clearly because she needs to keep up appearances about her own status, Kingkamol has not shared with her friends how much she struggles with her daughter-in-law. To them, Neen is perfect, the kind of daughter-in-law anyone would want. They tell Neen that she wants the scarf but it’s too expensive, and so of course Neen offers to buy it, showcasing her generosity. She buys scarves for all of them, even, and gives Kingkamol her credit card for dinner to treat her friends. On the surface, it’s a devoted act of love from a daughter-in-law, but with everything that Neen knows about her mother-in-law, it digs right into the deep wound of her lack of confidence in her social status, making it clear that Neen has never had to consider the cost of a scarf or picked a restaurant based on how expensive it is. Neen knows exactly what she is doing here, it’s so perfectly calculated for maximum damage: reminding Kingkamol that as much as she insists that she can provide anything for her daughter, she still has the upper hand when it comes to money (just as much as her display in her house made it clear that Kingkamol can never change how much Runch desires her wife). What Kingkamol wants is a daughter-in-law who is small, lacks self-confidence, can be controlled just like she has controlled her own daughter for most of her life, but this scene makes it clear that Neen is the opposite of that. After, Kingkamol arrives at the house in a fit of pure rage – losing face in front of her friends about something she feels so insecure about has stoked her fury. She is physically aggressive from the start, throwing the credit card at Neen’s face. Runch’s attempts to remove her mother from the situation are as close to decisive action as we’ve seen from her so far, she is desperate for her to leave before the situation escalates completely, but Neen is fired up herself and makes it worse (basically she says that “the old woman can’t feed herself”, or something along those lines). In the end, Kingkamol ends up smashing a vase, and a shard cuts Neen’s leg. She realises immediately that she has gone too far here, not showing any concern for Neen but a lot of worry about her daughter’s reaction – trying to say that she didn’t mean it – but Runch tells her to “get out”, and drags her away, leaving Neen by herself.

After, we see when they first met – I think this scene is deliberately put against the moment of escalating violence, to see the contrast clearly. Runch, still an office worker, in simple clothes, with a worn handbag, is trying to wash a coffee stain from her white shirt when Neen comes in. When their eyes meet, it’s clear that they’re both smitten immediately – Runch shy, hesitant, but showing clear interest (Ling’s eye-acting remains unbeaten), Neen self-assured, confident, very forward (again, the opposite of what Kingkamol would have wanted for her daughter, but apparently exactly what Runch likes), their chemistry clear from the start. Neen offers her own spare shirt to Runch (the contrast between their wardrobes makes the difference in their social status clear – and the fact that Runch dresses so differently in the present time shows how much marrying Neen changed her life), and of course they have to exchange numbers so Runch can return it eventually. It’s a beginning. 

Random notes:

As a precursor to all of this: the inherent problem with trying to write about a Thai television show is that I do not speak the language beyond a few words, which means that I am relying on (already not always perfect) subtitles. English is notoriously poor at conveying the nuances of Thai, where, for example, the use of different pronouns indicates a million things, including intimacy and closeness – when it’s translated to “you” and “I”, all of these subtleties are lost. And this is a very dialogue-heavy show! So I debated whether I felt equipped to do this at all, but in the end, In Love Forever has captured my brain and this is the only way to get my thoughts about it out (nine pages of notes!). We lost our dog at the end of May and there are really only a few things that distract me from the grief, and this is one of them. I apologise in advance for all the things I’ve missed, and I want to thank those dedicated native Thai speakers in fandom who go through the trouble of explaining, giving context, translating, etc., to add depth for international fans who would otherwise miss out on most of it.

For example, there’s Runch’s mother calling her daughter P’Runch and Neen’s parents calling her Nong Neen – and it works beyond the logic of Runch being an only and therefore older daughter, and Neen being a younger sister to her brother. Runch was raised to carry all the responsibility, to rise in the world beyond the social status of her parents – and since Kingkamol doesn’t see her daughter as her own person but as an extension of herself, she herself is the one who has had to fight so hard. I’d imagine she wouldn’t have had much of a happy childhood, between the pressure to become accomplished and at the same time managing her mother’s overbearing feelings. Meanwhile, Neen is clearly cherished and loved (the family portraits give a perfect visual representation of her nestled in the love of her parents with a protective brother), raised into self-confidence and self-assuredness with support and care.

Also, pronouns again in the Runch and Neen’s fight scene, where Runch is consistent in the endearing terms she uses (she is certain of her love for Neen, who is isn’t divorcing because she doesn’t love her anymore, she’s a character that is defined by being arrested in motion, there’s a lot of ways to think about this) while Neen fluctuates between using formal terms in a very calculated ways and endearing terms when she is at the height of emotion, like she falls back on it when she’s not fully in control and it happens automatically?

“Did you want to eat coffee or eat something else”: Subs again letting us down by missing out on intended meaning.

Kingkamol is clearly set up to be the villain of the story but at least there are complex psychological reasons behind her actions: meanwhile Att, Runch’s colleague at work, is just the worst of the worst, incapable of dealing with having a woman as his boss, spreading rumours that she only got the job because she’s the CEO’s granddaughter’s wife, talking behind her back, riling up her colleagues, making another part of her life absolute hell. There’s really no better symbol of Runch’s isolation than the fact that she enters a full room of people who are all gossiping about her and ends up entirely alone in there, trying to contain her feelings, incapable of sharing any of this burden with her wife. 

It’s interesting that Runch’s dad is warning his wife about what she is doing and seems to have an understanding that Runch as someone in a relationship should naturally prioritise her own family – Runch would be in a very different place if she had a balanced relationship with both of her parents, but it’s pretty obvious that her dad isn’t interfering as much as he could because he’s scared of his wife, or in a way, exactly the kind of partner that Kingkamol imagined her daughter having. He also confirms that Kingkamol has been doing this ever since they started dating, which means that Neen’s suffering dates back years, and I wonder how much her initial reactions to it differ from how sharpened she is now, how much this has changed her.

I also thought it was significant that in the scene where Runch and Neen tell Neen’s dad about their decision to divorce, Neen just sits there quietly, not saying much, and her dad is mostly addressing Runch – there’s a sense here that Neen is the one acquiescing and not really wanting the divorce, but going along with it because for once, it’s a decision that Runch has made, at least in her interpretation of her actions. In the Reaction Video with Ling and Orm, Ling indicates that Neen planted the idea in Runch’s head by talking about divorce casually, but maybe not really being too serious about it until Runch took up the idea because it would have resonated with her own sense that it was a way to protect her from harm, which I think makes sense character-wise but differs from the novel.