You know that feeling of consuming media and already missing it even though you’re still in the middle of experiencing it? Like, your heart is subconsciously preparing you for being without it. You want the episodes to both slow down so that you can savor while also wanting to find out what happens next. How seeing the opening credits envelops you like a warm embrace signaling that you’ve arrived home. This was one of those dramas for me.

This slice-of-life, character-driven, nearly-plotless drama was scripted for introverts like me. It trudges on at a snail’s pace with its audience urging it to hurry along and do something (insert meme of stick person poking at that thing to c’mon and do something interesting already). It puts the slow in slow burn, making all other slow burns feel like you were hit over the head at first impact. It’s sloooooowww. The characters walk slowly, they eat slowly, pour shots of soju slowly. Slow is the name of the game. Why hurry when you have no where else to be? Having said all this, what fueled my obsession was the show’s execution. Because oh boy, did this show execute.

I’ve never watched a drama quite like this one. Where the director lets a scene simply exist and -breathe-. Where the silence between characters is more revealing than the dialogue itself. The loudest parts in this drama were the quiet moments where the characters aren’t even looking at each other. How brave of the director to let the silence exist rather than fill it just because. The direction here is both evident yet clearly understated.

Bravo also to the incredible cinematography. The colors and muted tones set the atmosphere because this drama was an entire MOOD. We have close ups of subway hand hold straps, we see condensation sweating off of glassware, we feel the seasonal changes as the chill of impending winter seeps into the bones of the characters. We hear the gravel underneath plodding feet and the sliding of doors open and shut when a character reaches their destination. Who knew that the sound of two bottles of soju clinking against each other while inside a black plastic bag can be both deafening and most welcoming. How characters come together for a meal and all that can be heard is the scraping of utensils and chewing. The silence is palpable as everyone is just trying to get through a meal while fighting individual battles of brokenness.

This drama is a visual and audio feast.

The scenery is its own, living and breathing entity. We have a countryside village with fields of greens and uneven pathways of dirt that take our characters away and back home again. Rinse and repeat. We have strong gusts of wind rustling through the trees and ruffling the sheets and garments hanging dry on makeshift clotheslines. The sounds of cloyingly humid nights where you can just -hear- how muggy and hot it is—all of this juxtaposed by the noise and brightness of Seoul, the supposed defining mecca for success in life.

The countless unpacking of delicious metaphors left to viewer interpretation. Underlining that the best stories are still ones that are shown and not told. How a pack of wild, roaming dogs are metaphors for freedom and imprisonment. How the subway serves as the division between the land of the living and those merely surviving. How the buzzing of an incoming text is a long held lifeline.

But more than any of this? This drama gave us the talented Mr. Gu portrayed by the incomparable Son Soek Koo.

I first discovered SSK years ago in the Korean adaptation of Suits where he played David Kim, an extremely intelligent rival lawyer and antagonist for the main lead. Think Moriarty to Sherlock but in the legal field. His guest role arc was only three episodes long but he was so magnetic and spoke perfect, impeccable English (kinda rare in kdrama-land, at least enough so that it's noticeable when it's spoken well). Fluent English that was delivered with such swagger that I quickly became a fan. It didn't hurt that the man knew how to don a fitted suit.

I next watched him in Designated Survivor: 60 Days where he played Cha Young Jin, senior advisor to the designated acting president, a meatier role that saw him on the good side of the fight. And in watching him passionately urge and support President Park's will to run the country, I learned how versatile SSK could be. Magnetic enough to take over the screen while also willingly staying in the background for others to shine.

And then along came Mr. Gu.

Mr. Gu, the neighborhood alcoholic who is shrouded in mystery. A man of very few words, but with an expressive face that conveys tomes of meaning you can’t wait to decipher. He portrays a lonely soul with hints of a dark and dangerous past. He never apologizes for who he is and even tells people: "I’m a bad guy, you won’t like me when you find out what kind of person I am." Only to be met with: "I don’t care. I accept you entirely."

He’s not a pretty boy by Korean standards, but there’s no denying the charisma and swagger that SSK (and Mr. Gu by portrayal) reeks. Honestly, everything about SSK is pretty average. Average height, average build, average looks—let’s be real. BUT the way he carries himself in this role… he dials the sexiness to a boiling point. Looks are fleeting…but presence? Presence can’t be denied. Both scruffy and clean shaven, Mr. Gu oozes presence.

How does he make dirt and sweat look so damn delectable? How does he look so sexy in a sweat-soaked, oversized shirt that desperately needs laundering and an immediate introduction to an ironing board, while also filling out a cable knit sweater and an overcoat like nobody’s business? How does one look so desirable dressed like a homeless man (actual words a character on the show used to describe Mr. Gu). And damn, can this man lean on things—against a subway railing, beside a car, against a building, walking up a dark, hilly path. Body language that is an entire character, one that tells its own story. The lean while delivering his rare, crooked smile is a true sight to behold. It’s beautiful.

And why did I watch this show hoping for glimpses of Mr. Gu in sleeveless tees and jean short cut offs? Because arms. And calves. And a face so delicious that I yearn to slap the confident smirk right off of it. I could make a home for myself inside his cheek dimple.

Make no mistake about it—when Mr. Gu is on the screen it’s impossible for me to look anywhere else. He is that mesmerizing. I grew so attached to his character that when Mr. Gu’s past indeed catches up to him, I fervently watched with bated breath hoping he comes out of the other side unscathed.

And it's not about me having a crush, it's that SSK is SO magnetic in this role that you're invested in his character and where he's going and where he ends up. That's a true testament to an actor, when you get the audience to CARE about the character even though said character is imperfect in every possible way.

I know I talked at length about SSK and his Mr. Gu, but this show features an ensemble cast of massively talented folks who all excel at micro-expressions. It’s Kim Ji Won’s most mature and impressive role to date. It’s Lee Min Ki in his least Lee Min-Ki-est role. It’s Lee El churning out a sympathetic and realistic character who yearns for love while realizing she's her own obstacle at obtaining it. It’s about the entire Yeom family existing alongside each other without ever truly talking or listening to one another. And still yet, it's in seeing each other for who we are and less of who we want the other to be. It's the idea of escaping and running from a past that we can never truly leave behind.

As much as I’ve touted the show, I understand that it’s not for everyone. The slow pacing can be off putting. There are parts that can be a slog to get through (it never was for me for what that’s worth). Some may even drop it for lack of moving plot, but man…. the journey is so wholly satisfying simply because it’s entirely relatable. These people are my people, my fellow introverts who are trudging through life one day at a time, piecing together small moments of happiness to offset their loneliness. It’s in the measurement of self-worth and finding your place in society. It’s discovering and accepting that you’re lovable.

It all speaks to me so much that after the end credits rolled, I immediately clicked replay on episode one. I never do that. Not with such immediacy and need.

In an interview, SSK referred to playing Mr. Gu as possibly his role of a lifetime. He urged viewers to pay attention when watching, for it might just change their life. It certainly did mine. I'm jealous of any of you who are still reading that have yet to experience this extraordinary drama. If you decide to give My Liberation Notes a go, consider yourself warned, you might just catch some very big feelings along the way.