You and Everything Else

Told with a creeping, unsparing intensity whose force only reveals itself over time

You and Everything Else is no feel‑good drama.

It is a precise, sometimes merciless analysis of a decades‑long friendship between two women. A fateful friendship.

At first I struggled, because the series feels so austere – but that very austerity drew me in more and more.

Told with a creeping, unsparing intensity whose force only reveals itself over time, the series refuses sentimental shortcuts. Kim Go‑eun and Park Ji‑hyun do not embody cliché “best friends,” but two women who love, envy, wound, and yet cannot let go of one another. Layer by layer, the show strips away the surface until only the raw weave of dependency, power, and guilt remains. Female friendship is placed at the center here—in all its ambivalence, as love, as rivalry, as entanglement. A theme rarely portrayed in Korea with such uncompromising clarity.

Particularly striking is the character of Cheon Sang‑yeon—and Park Ji‑hyun’s performance with her. She appears as the emotional echo of her brother, but in inverted reflection: charismatic, aloof, full of inner fractures. Her motives remain opaque, her closeness never certain, her distance never final. Psychologically, she bears traits of a pathic personality—someone who seeks intimacy, but only under conditions she herself controls. One might speak of narcissistic vulnerability: a mixture of grandiosity and deep inner emptiness. Her background explains much: a wealthy, detached family where status mattered more than affection. The brother’s death shakes the family to its core. The Asian financial crisis of the 1990s adds an economic rupture—challenges the family fails to withstand. Sang‑yeon is left alone.

Eun‑jung, by contrast, comes from humbler origins and seems almost naïve in the best sense—grounded, loyal, down‑to‑earth. She is by no means weak: emotionally stable, but conflict‑averse. Her “decency” is not conservative but empathetic. Her naïveté serves as a shield against Sang‑yeon’s manipulative complexity. Eun‑jung is the moral compass of the series, the conscience that wants to help without controlling. This contrast intensifies their bond: here the pathically charged, manipulative daughter of the elite; there the empathetic, steadfast daughter of the middle class.

The series touches on social taboos rarely addressed openly in South Korea. Assisted dying is one such sensitive theme. Even subtler are the queer undertones. Tellingly, the KDrama never ventures beyond hints and subtext. At times, Sang‑yeon’s feelings for the same man as her friend seem less like romantic rivalry than a proxy conflict. Between the lines shimmers a repressed longing for Eun‑jung herself—a dimension never spoken aloud, but one that heightens the psychological tension.

To grasp the force of this series, one must also look at Korean narrative tradition. The difficult‑to‑translate feeling of han—grief, resentment, unfulfilled yearning—permeates many dramas and is palpable here: in Sang‑yeon’s unfulfilled life, in Eun‑jung’s loyalty that borders on self‑erasure. Those expecting the familiar emotional excesses of K‑drama will find fewer floods of tears. Instead: sparse dialogue, almost documentary sobriety. Yet this only sharpens how close the two women’s fatal entanglement cuts—because nothing is softened or smoothed. And fate seems to heap more weight upon them with each encounter. More drama is always possible. And yes: makjang can be quiet, too.

Formally, the series remains strict, elliptical, austere. Those seeking rapid plot points will be disappointed. Those who surrender to it will see: this is not about sentimentality, but about the fine cracks beneath the surface, about what cannot be spoken. You and Everything Else is more than a drama about friendship. It is a psychological study of attachment and loss, a social commentary on Korean taboos, and a mirror held up to the uncomfortable question of how far friendship truly carries when it matters most.

Intense. Moving.

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Platonic friendships between women are truly the highest form of bond humanity has reached

I just finished this drama and honestly, I feel completely drained in the best and worst way possible. As someone who has experienced a friendship very similar to the one portrayed, I could feel and relate to almost every second of it. Watching their story unfold felt like reliving moments of my own life. Platonic friendships between women are truly the highest form of bond humanity has reached. There’s seriously nothing quite like it. It’s a love that isn’t romantic yet still is a soul level connection and those who’ve been lucky enough to experience it know how magical and rare it is.
There were times during this drama when I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to continue. I almost had to stop because the pain was so overwhelming. I’ve cried more in the last few hours than I have in months. Not just light tears either, the kind of crying that makes your chest ache and leaves you gasping for breath. It was like I could feel it in every corner of my body. This drama gave me something raw and human, something that most shows fail to even attempt. That’s how deeply the script and the acting reached me. It’s not often that a piece of fiction manages to blur the line between reality and storytelling but this one sure did! Seriously whoever came up with this script deserves so much credit, because it’s not just the writing; it’s like they managed to capture life itself. Normally, I’m the kind of viewer who skips scenes here and there especially when I feel like the pacing is off or when filler moments drag. But with this drama, not a single second felt wasted. Every line carried weight and every scene was precious. In fact, I often found myself replaying moments just to absorb them fully whether it was a small look exchanged between characters or a line that cut right through me. That’s how precious it felt. I know I’ll be carrying this one with me for a long time, replaying scenes in my mind just like I did on screen. It’s rare to come across a drama this powerful and deep. I’m grateful (and devastated lol) that I did. I'm giving a 8/10 for rewatch value because although I know it would be awfully painful to go through it again, I would definitly rewatch this masterpiece.

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They are friends soulmates enemies and everything in-between....

This show offers a refreshing take on friendship, depicting a relationship far from flawless. It's a complex portrayal, brimming with envy, jealousy, and insecurity the kind where love and hate intertwine, and codependency reigns. These messy, often unhealthy dynamics are realistically explored, making it difficult to look away. The performances, particularly by Kim Go Eun and Park Ji Hyun, are outstanding, capturing the raw, unfiltered essence of the characters. The show doesn't shy away from the gray areas of human nature, and the characters are complex, yet strangely relatable.

While the pacing may be deliberate, the story's impact lingers long after the credits roll. Approach it with an open mind.

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When Love and Hatred Exist together

"I hate you to the core but still i love you the most." This single line perfectly captures the essence of the drama. At its heart, its a story about the toxic yet unbreakable friendship between Eunjeong and Sang Yeon. No matter how destructive their relationship seems, they remain each other’s one constant.

Sang Yeon is clearly toxic but i never found myself truly hating her. Maybe its because her backstory was portrayed so convincingly or maybe because deep down, Eunjeong never stopped needing her. Thats what makes their bond so fascinating, it defies simple labels. To call it mere friendship feels inadequate. Its the kind of connection where they shouldnt be together yet they cant exist apart.

Romance and especially the love triangle, was also a big part of the drama. The triangle was complicated, but after finishing drama you couldnt really hate anyone in it. At times you might get angry on characters like Sang Yeon or Sang Hak and at other times you could even understand where they are coming from. In the bigger picture, i dont resent any of them for how the story unfolded. The romance between Eunjeong and Sang Hak was touching but her love-hate bond with Sang Yeon absolutely stole the show.

The drama leans heavily into melodrama and it had me in tears multiple times. The first real breaking point for me was Sang Yeon’s brother’s backstory, which was devastating and then the last two episodes hit just as hard. They were painful to watch, but in the best possible way.

What i liked most was how the drama never painted their relationship in black and white. It didnt glorify Sang Yeon’s behavior but it also didnt make her a complete villain. It showed how love, anger, insecurity, jealousy and dependence can all exist together in one relationship. That made the characters feel very real, even with their flaws.

I personally think that in real life no one should have a friend like Sang Yeon. But in this drama, i dont know maybe its not for me to decide whether a toxic friend like Sang Yeon should stay with Eunjeong or not. What i felt after finishing the drama is that Eunjeong herself needed her. And because of that, i still accept and even approve their toxic friendship within the story.

The drama also had a very strong atmosphere. The music, the pacing and the way side characters were written all added to the heaviness of the story. The subplots didnt feel extra, they actually made the drama deeper and showed how Eunjeong and Sang Yeon’s choices affected everyone around them.

In the end, even with its unusual and heavy storyline, i loved it a lot. For me, its a solid 9.5/10.

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A fantastic note on friendship with all shades of colours!

The story opens with Chae Song Yeon convincing Ryu Eun Jung to accompany her for her final moments. With the whole series spanning their childhood to their late 40s.

I found their high school times the most adorable to watch. They're so young yet grappling their embarassments. Chae Song Yeon later reflects how those tiny thoughts really made her the adult she is.

The story moves to their 20s, when they're in college. Kim Song Hak who shares the same first name as Song Yeon's brother and becomes the college sweetheart of Eun Jung. It was frustrating to watch the push and pull between all three of them. How much they do mean to each other, with Song Yeon battling her toughest times.

Moving to their 30s, coincidence brings them back but now we have spiralled from their childish rivalry, the bitterness of their work, pride and kindness swallows the delicate relationship between the girls causing an irreparable drift. The two are way past childish whims, Song Yeon solidified her character with all the setbacks triggering her — the actress acted so well ! My favourite scene had to be when she admitted it outright her grief as made her the borderline obsessive person she is now.

With the previous decades deed, imagine the surprise Eun Jung would have felt now that Song Yeon wants to revisit her. The most remarkable thing about how they depicted the relationship - the two girls had it all: rivalry, jealousy, hatred, loathe, sweetness but their kept coming back because there is Love ! I found the storyline consistent, I enjoyed the two main actress work, especially Go Eun moving. I have my tissues drenched with tears. As someone who knows the pain of losing, the show was not an easy watch.

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The Agony and Ecstasy of a Lifelong Friendship

GENERAL OVERVIEW:

Friendship, in its truest form, can be a shelter against life’s tempests. But in “You and Everything Else,” it IS the tempest: violent, consuming, and relentless. This decades-spanning drama charts the entanglement of Ryu Eun-jung and Cheon Sang-yeon, two women bound together by intimacy and enmity in equal measure. Their friendship, fraught with rivalry, betrayal, and longing, ultimately bends toward reconciliation, painting a portrait of love and destruction intertwined.

From their first encounter as fourth-grade students in 1992, when Eun-jung was poor and sharp-edged and Sang-yeon seemed perfect as the new transfer student, their dynamic is shaped by mutual resentment and envy. What begins as hostility morphs into a fragile bond through middle and high school, only to become more complicated in college when both fall orbit to Kim Sang-hak, complicating their already fragile dynamic. When they collide again in their thirties, their professional lives spiral into betrayal, jealousy, and stolen ideas within the film industry. In the present day, a terminally ill Sang-yeon re-enters Eun-jung’s life, requesting accompaniment to Switzerland for euthanasia.

What makes this drama remarkable is how believably it captures the way friendships shift with age. Childhood friendships break over small things and reconciliation is just as easy then, but as you get older fights become harder to undo and reconciliations rarer. You could just stop seeing each other and move on. The way the show makes the troubles deepen with time is believable, and it quietly shows the subtle shifts between liking and resenting someone. I especially liked that Sang-yeon and Eun-jung weren’t tied up and made to fight over love alone.

At first Sang-yeon had experienced the death of Cheon Sang-hak, and then mid-series her mother dies, but only after being given a terminal diagnosis does she seem to finally face the lifelong triggers she’d carried. She was full of fear: would she follow her brother into suicide, or suffer like her mother until she died? She said she found comfort in knowing that Switzerland exists. I liked that she had the chance to choose while she was still coherent, and with Eun-jung by her side she was no longer lonely. “Nobody will die happier than me.”

The script, direction, acting, and music were all so calm and composed, with muted colors and long takes that mirror the characters’ emotional restraint... almost documentary-like, and that’s why it made me cry.

It showed so well that Sang-yeon exists as she is now because of Eun-jung, and Eun-jung exists as she is now because of Sang-yeon. Even though their friendship wasn’t all happiness and fond memories, in fact, it was filled more with resentment and jealousy, even those memories became the driving force that shaped them. And so, the show convincingly insists that the two could only ever be each other’s one and only.

Eun-jung felt inferior to Sang-yeon, and Sang-yeon felt inferior to Eun-jung, but I think they were really just trying to fill their own lacks. They drifted apart out of mutual blame and envy.

Eun-jung has always been the one to reach out, so Sang-yeon probably asked her to stay with her at the end knowing Eun-jeong wouldn’t be able to refuse. All the awkwardness, annoyance, and hatred faded, and only then did they find peace, but the saddest thing is that there was no time left to be together. Eun-jung’s face, telling Sang-yeon without hesitation “you did well, you held on,” stuck in my chest.

The final episode in particular was so well made. It was undeniably sad, yet also beautiful. I’ve never seen a drama like this before. It just left me with such a strange, indescribable feeling.

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INSIGHTS:

Eun Jung:

Ryu Eun-jung is the central protagonist, portrayed as a resilient, empathetic, and multifaceted woman shaped by hardship, complicated relationships, and a lifelong struggle between bitterness and compassion. Born into poverty, she grows up in a semi-basement with her single mother, a milk delivery worker. Early exposure to inequality, such as school surveys exposing her fatherless home, bullying, and constant financial strain, leaves her both envious of privilege and fiercely resilient. Helping her mother and hiding her shame about home life forge a toughness that coexists with deep vulnerability.

At her core, Eun-jung is considerate and sincere, qualities that draw others in. Even as a child, she refuses revenge when wronged, showing empathy that becomes her quiet strength. This warmth attracts Sang-yeon’s mother (a mentor), Sang-yeon’s brother Cheon Sang-hak (her first love), and later Kim Sang-hak (her college boyfriend). Yet this same natural charm sparks Sang-yeon’s envy, as Eun-jung effortlessly wins affection Sang-yeon struggles to gain. She can be pessimistic, shaped by traumas which leaves her with guilt, anxiety, and a fear of loss.

Her growth is defined by moving from envy to self-preservation. Academically strong but always second to Sang-yeon, she sacrifices personal wants for her mother’s sake. Inspired by Cheon Sang-hak, she pursues photography, but her college romance with Kim Sang-hak collapses in a love triangle with Sang-yeon. Though jealous and insecure, snooping through mailboxes and drawers, Eun-jung ultimately breaks things off to protect herself, showing her shift toward independence.

As a working adult, she remains principled and uncompromising. She clashes with Sang-yeon over ethics, refuses to let victims apologize to abusers, and calls Sang-yeon a thief after being robbed of her work, rejecting compensation to keep her dignity.

Eun-jung’s photography becomes a metaphor for her perspective. She captures moments of truth but struggles to see her own worth until Sang-yeon’s memoir reveals how deeply she shaped Sang-yeon’s life.

Her guilt over Cheon Sang-hak’s suicide stems from believing she could have saved him, a burden that parallels her later decision to support Sang-yeon’s euthanasia, showing her growth in accepting what she cannot control, even while bitter about the timing.

Alone afterward, she embodies the survivor’s paradox: resentful of betrayals, yet unable to hate fully.


Sang Yeon:

Cheon Sang-yeon is a complex antagonist-protagonist: brilliant, ambitious, and deeply flawed, her life arcs from privilege to isolation, driven by envy, loss, and unfulfilled desires. Introduced as a transfer student in 1992, she comes from wealth and stability: an apartment home, intact family, and prestige through her minister grandfather. As class president, she appears the perfect model student: authoritative, disciplined, excelling in academics. Yet this façade conceals insecurity. Rumors about Eun-jung’s milk deliveries (whether started by her or not) spark conflict, and her strict punishments betray a defensive need for control. To Eun-jung, Sang-yeon embodies utopia, everything she lacks, yet Sang-yeon herself suffers from favoritism, neglect, and longing for love.

Her personality blends confidence with fragility. Exceptionally capable, she is also envious and insecure. Her mother favors Eun-jung, her brother confides in her, and Kim Sang-hak loves her, all of which stoke Sang-yeon’s jealousy. Her provocations stem from this longing for validation. Most often she is secretive, manipulative, and destructive which shows when she sabotages friendships through betrayal and rivalry, steals Eun-jung’s work, among other incidents.

Tragedies accelerate her decline. Her brother Sang-hak’s suicide leads to divorce, poverty, and her mother’s eventual cancer. Overshadowed by her brother’s memory and by Eun-jung’s growing importance in her life, Sang-yeon spirals further. In college, she joins the photography club too late to win Kim Sang-hak, fueling regret and obsession. As a working adult, she is ruthless: sleeping with a director, stealing projects to launch her company, and forcing unethical compromises on staff before quitting under pressure.

Her manipulative streak peaks when she steals Eun-jung’s film project, but later revealed that this act stemmed from desperation to prove herself, not just malice, adding nuance to her character.

Her pancreatic cancer diagnosis mirrors her mother’s illness, deepening her fear of losing control and driving her to seek euthanasia as a way to reclaim agency.

Flawed, selfish, and destructive, yet painfully human, Sang-yeon embodies the tragedy of unhealed wounds and unrequited longing.

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ADDITIONAL DETAILS:

I keep wondering, did Eunjung always want to take Sangyeon back, no matter what? I think so, especially after rewatching episode 2.

Episode 2:

“I don’t even know what’s making me this angry. The accountant’s rudeness? Sangyeon’s stubbornness in never showing weakness? Or my own incompetence; this helplessness? So I write. Whatever story this becomes, let’s not be afraid of it.”

→ From her teens to her forties, it’s always Sangyeon who comes to find Eunjung. Yet Sangyeon has never shown her true feelings, not once. Even now, when she comes because she’s hurting, it’s the same.

Episode 8:

“That rigid, proper face that stubbornly refused to ever look back at my feelings. I could hear the sound of something breaking, the sound of my heart going cold.”

→ The 40-year-old Eunjung is reflecting on what her 20-year-old self once thought. The younger Eunjung wanted to know Sangyeon, to truly understand her. But Sangyeon never answered her in their twenties, and that’s when Eunjung’s heart broke.

→ I keep thinking of this scene: when they reunite in their twenties. Eunjung thought they’d have so much to say, but the meeting ends up awkward. As they part, Eunjung stops her and asks directly,

“Sangyeon… back then, when you moved, why didn’t you tell me? Were you mad at me?”
Sangyeon says no, and keeps denying each question until finally, Eunjung laughs.

Even in that reunion, they both smile, but during their later reunion, it’s Sangyeon who feels pure joy. For Eunjung, this earlier moment, the one where she could finally laugh again, was the real reunion.

→ To go deeper: teenage Eunjung thought Sangyeon was angry because

“I thought if I waited, you’d answer me. But you never did.”
That line, to me, defines Eunjung’s lifelong feelings for Sangyeon.

From childhood, Eunjung is described as talkative... chattering endlessly to her friend, to her mom. So of course she wants the person she loves to talk back, to share. But Sangyeon is someone you can only wait for, and even waiting doesn’t guarantee she’ll respond.

Episode 9:

“You wouldn’t even show me you were in pain, so why bother touching someone’s life at all?”
“That’s why I came. To show you. Because I already know what you must think of me.”
(“What do I think of you?”)
“That I’m obsessive, prideful. That I’d make a whole show about dying before I’m even dying, Switzerland and all that nonsense.”

→ The 40-year-old Sangyeon comes in with this bold, unfiltered energy; her new persona is practically “I’m done pretending.”
It’s fascinating that this version appears right after the show finishes sorting through the 20s-era memories.

40-year-old Eunjung sees Sangyeon and thinks, she still won’t show weakness, even now.
But this time, Sangyeon’s here to reveal herself.

→ She says, “What you think of me…” and that’s key. Eunjung has always been transparent, easy to read, while Sangyeon is the opposite. For years, Eunjung longed to understand Sangyeon but never could. Meanwhile, Sangyeon had understood Eunjung from the start.

That line from their 30s makes this clear too:

“How is it that you never once surprise me?”

And that deep, bitter self-loathing Eunjung feels, "I could never be like her," that only comes from knowing someone intimately.

→ Sangyeon’s words here echo what she says in episode 14, after reading Eunjung’s writing:

“You caught me at a very unfair time, you know? Can I keep reading? This is just your version of me.”

To Sangyeon, Switzerland was a comfort, a death unlike her mother’s or brother’s, something she could choose, something peaceful.
But to Eunjung, it looked like pride and perfectionism, another act of control.

And that line hints that there’s always another version, the 20s Sangyeon, the 30s Sangyeon, all different, depending on who’s telling the story.

Episode 15:

“I know there’s no answer. Still, I’ll share this time with you.”

→ This mirrors Eunjung’s narration in episode 2: “So I write. Whatever story this becomes, let’s not be afraid of it.”

Eunjung doesn’t choose whether to go to Switzerland or not; what she chooses is to go for Sangyeon, even though she’s terrified of coming back alone.
That’s who she is: she does it anyway.

→ Beyond Eunjung and Sangyeon, there’s another unforgettable presence: Sangyeon’s brother, Cheon Sanghak.

He once told young Eunjung, “Taking a photograph is collecting time.”

But in this drama, it’s not photos, it’s writing that matters. Eunjung’s writings about Sangyeon. Sangyeon’s writings about her own life. So many words, all acting in place of speech. If photographs are the collection of time, then writing is the collection of emotion. And Eunjung being with Sangyeon, that’s the collection of existence itself.

After waiting so long to finally understand Sangyeon, when she’s at last allowed to see Sangyeon’s weakness, to accept her completely, that’s what I’d call the collection of the soul.

...But then, “four days”? Only four days of happiness for Eunjung and Sangyeon? God, that’s just suddenly so unbearably sad.

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FINAL THOUGHTS:

I have to say this drama left me in a reflective haze after finishing. It's one of those stories that doesn't just entertain; it burrows into your soul and makes you question the messy threads of your own relationships.

Philosophically, the show burrows deep. It made me think about how envy and loss can warp us into unrecognizable versions of ourselves, how the people we resent most often reflect the parts of us we lack. It’s Nietzsche’s abyss refracted through friendship: stare too long at your insecurities, and they consume you. Yet the drama insists redemption doesn’t come from erasing the past, but from choosing compassion in the face of it.

What I learned here is that forgiveness isn’t for the offender, but it’s freedom for yourself. Grudges are stones in the chest; only by letting go can you breathe. And lastly, pride is an illusion; chase it too long and you end up alone, begging for connection at the end.

The last episode was undeniably sad, yet achingly beautiful. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It’s melodramatic yet deeply human, heavy yet strangely liberating.

I don’t regret a single scene. If anything, it made me want to text an old friend I’d drifted from, just to say, “Hey.” Because if this drama shows us anything, it’s that love and hate aren’t opposites. They’re entangled threads, woven across decades, impossible to fully untangle. And that’s what makes them endure.

May all the Eunjungs and Sangyeons of this world, even if they never truly understand each other, still find a way to live side by side.

Thank you for reading!

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Worthy Drama - A Deep Dive into Love, Pain, and Complexity

I wrapped up You and Everything Else last week, and it’s still lingering in my mind. The themes are deep and stick with you long after you’ve finished watching. This is definitely one of those slow-burn melodramas that makes you think, and even though it moves at a slower pace, every single scene, subplot, and supporting character matters. They all come together to add layers to the story, especially when it comes to fleshing out the two leads.

The relationship between Ryu Eun-jung and Cheon Sang-yeon is complicated—love, resentment, reconciliation, redemption... something beyond just friendship. It’s tough to pin down exactly what they have, but that’s what makes it so compelling. Both actresses give such raw, nuanced performances that you really feel what these characters are going through—whether it’s love or pain or just the weight of everything they’re carrying. It’s not just a drama at that point, it’s like you’re living their story with them.

This story is written from Ryu Eun-jung's POV. As for Sang-yeon, I never really hated her. I couldn’t. You can’t help but feel for her ill fate of having all of k-trauma's misfortunes. Her desperate need for love and security, born from a troubled childhood, shapes her in ways that make her actions understandable, even if they’re flawed. While watching, I found myself wanting to jump into the scene, give young Sang-yeon a comforting pat, and tell her she’s doing great and to keep going. On the other hand, Eun-jung has the kind of support system that makes her feel grounded. Her mom is her rock, and that gives her a sense of stability that Sang-yeon never had. Watching their lives play out in parallel is both heartbreaking and eye-opening. Sang-yeon's brother’s abrupt departure, leaving without a word (instead, he left the camera and film to Eun-jung), haunted her, fueling her guilt and resentment. On top of that, Eun-jung’s decision to ignore Sang-yeon’s SOS call while Sang-yeon facing her mother’s impending passing marks another crucial turning point, triggering Sang-yeon’s subsequent, irrational behavior toward the one person she loves and envies.

I don't agree with some people who think Eun-jung should have completely cut off Sang-yeon after her final request. Instead, I believe their eventual reconciliation, along with the proper closure and farewell, was crucial for Eun-jung. Accompanying Sang-yeon on her final journey allowed Eun-jung to express her love for her honestly, let go of her resentment, and move forward without regret for the rest of her life.

Honestly, I’d rank You and Everything Else as the best Netflix series I’ve seen this year. It’s up there with some of the best dramas I’ve watched, period. The way it explores love, pain, and the complexities of human relationships is so well done—it’s the kind of show that stays with you long after it’s over.

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Unfortunately my rating stars stop at 10

I am a 73 year old man, living in south-central Kansas. Years ago my wife was returning home from a trip to California where half of our family lives. Back then, I was a novice and found I would be partial to watching Studio Dragon productions. My first "outing" was the drama "Crash Landing On You" and my only plea to my wife was to watch it with sub-titles, as I know English voice overs carry the drama of a water balloon. Now after viewing probably close to 75+ Korean dramas, there is not too much we like watching any longer on American TV.

"My Mister" "It's Okay to Not Be Okay" "Our Blues" "Misaeng" are the top programs we have watched more than 3 times each. But I never have been impacted so deeply with "You And Everything Else." I will usually search for notices on the web telling me what current dramas are being watched. What is popular. Oddly enough, we merely found this diamond by scrolling through the Netflix channel.

I wish I could pick the brains of the writer. The realism in dialog (again, why I will not watch with English voice-overs) caught every nuance of humans dealing with problems, with some issues being so intense, you want to say "That writer lived my life!"
All I can say is that if you are an American, wanting to at least look the other way as life seems to be crumbling all around us, you MUST watch this drama. I can assure you that if you are not affected by the dialog, writing, back ground music and of course, the acting, I would rush yourself to your nearest hospital to be checked out whether you were outfitted with a heart.

So to all cast, crew, directors, producers and people I have missed, a big Thank You! What was touched on, and exposed in the course of this 15 episode drama, should win every award known in the business, including Academy Awards.

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:(

Overall, the drama was truly good and I cried alllllllllooooooootttttt (fine for me). The first 10 episodes were so intense that I finished them in one sitting, but my head hurt so much from crying that I had to take two pills before continuing. It even made me feel depressed for a while.

However, I felt a bit disappointed with the ending. It would have been a perfect 10/10 for me if Sang Hak had been involved in the ending, even just as supportive. They didn't need to get back together (which | really wish for), but including him would have given the story a more satisfying and complete conclusion.

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A feeling that breaks my heart in pieces.

Kim goeun what a great actor you are, watching you act and feeling all the emotions together is such a fine art. It shows how wonderful actress you are, at every scene I cried so much. I completed this drama in one watch, it's such a rollercoaster ride for me. I understand that her friends past is full of heartbreaks, but girl it's your best friend boyfriend and you keep trying. She is so selfish, irritating and I literally hate her nope I didn't like her character as human being, every time she is giving suggestion to eunjeong I was like you only doing the wrong thing. I understand why eunjeong break up sanghyuk, the way running to the college to find out the letter and feeling miserable like she is not that type of person and what a person she became. And worst part without discussing with her you ran back to her friends after lying about the exibition, what a loser you are. I guess I am not so good understand human but I really wish she never accept him again. The pain I feel at their break-up is too much to handle. But I hate the ending, why give her such a hard life and a painful death. Why? And what is whole story about? Betrayal and pain I just hate it. Except the acting of all actors and ofcourse kim goeun, it's so painful to watch all episodes.

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