Way Back Love

Short but Sweet -- Heartwarming!!!

This one really got to me. It's definitely one of those dramas that tugs at your heartstrings. The whole vibe is somber but also beautiful, you know? It's all about this girl, Hee-wan, who's pretty much given up on life, and then her childhood best friend, who died years ago, shows up as a grim reaper. It sounds somewhat out there, but it's actually quite touching.

Because it's only six episodes, the story remains highly focused on Hee-wan and her feelings, as well as her connection with Ram-woo, the grim reaper. You really get into their heads and feel what they're going through. It's stunning, but in a sad way, if that makes sense. The colors are soft, and everything has a dreamy, melancholic feel that perfectly suits the story.

The two leading actors, Kim Min-ha and Gong Myung, are just fantastic. Kim Min-ha perfectly captures the feeling of being utterly lost and then slowly regaining a reason to live again. And Gong Myung as the grim reaper is sweet and gentle with her. You totally buy their connection, even in this crazy situation.

What I really liked is how the show handles loss and the process of trying to accept it. It's not all doom and gloom, though. It shows how even when you know you don't have much time left, you can still find little things that make life worth living. Watching Hee-wan make her bucket list and experience those small moments was really moving.

Now, I will say that if you're looking for something extremely upbeat and happy, this might not be it. It's definitely on the sadder side. And because it's so short, I found myself wishing we could have learned a bit more about their past and perhaps seen their relationship develop a little more. Plus, the whole grim reaper thing is a big part of the story, so you have to be okay with that fantasy element.

A really poignant and sweet little drama. It prompts you to reflect on life, loss, and the significance of the people you care about. Kim Min-ha and Gong Myung are great, and even though it's a bit of a tearjerker, it's worth watching if you're in the mood for something heartfelt and a little bit different. Just grab some tissues!

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"Kim Min Ha, the Fairy of Drama and Queen of Broken Hearts"

“Way Back Love"
- A short K-drama with devastating intensity

Once again, Kim Min Ha delivers a breathtaking performance, this time in *Way Back Love*—a drama that’s as brief as it is soul-crushing. She’s like a fairy of emotions, radiant and fragile, yet so powerful in her presence. Every look, every word she utters feels like it was crafted to break you. Whether it’s the script that gives her such poignant lines, or her sheer ability to elevate them, the result is the same: she embodies pain with haunting authenticity.

Opposite her, Gong Myung—an actor I hadn’t encountered before this drama—brings a soft, quiet intensity that perfectly complements hers. Together, they share a chemistry that feels genuine, effortless, and deeply affecting. Though the drama only spans six episodes, it grabs you instantly and leaves a lasting mark.

From the very beginning, *Way Back Love* doesn’t pretend to offer comfort. You know, you *feel*, that a happy ending is unlikely. And yet, you hope. It’s that cruel tension—between love and fate—that makes watching it so emotionally unbearable. You sit there, powerless, aching for characters you can’t save.

What stays with me most are the words spoken by Jung Hui Wan (played by Kim Min Ha):
**“I will remember you. I will keep living. Because for us, loving myself means loving you.”**
It’s a simple sentence, but it carries a staggering weight. A love that survives even in absence.

Kim Min Ha had already made me cry in *Light Shop*, where she portrayed another sorrowful soul, someone for whom happiness seemed unreachable. But in *Way Back Love*, she transcends melancholy. She *becomes* love—pure, painful, and unforgettable.

I wholeheartedly recommend this drama to everyone, but with a heartfelt warning: watch it when you're in a place where you can handle the sadness. This isn’t just entertainment—it’s an emotional experience, a soft wound that lingers long after the final scene.

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"To us, Loving Me Is Loving You."

It’s rare that a drama doesn't just leave you feeling emotionally drained—it makes you feel alive in a way you weren’t prepared for. Way Back Love takes you through a whirlwind of love, grief, and healing, in a way that doesn’t just tug at your heartstrings but completely unravels and rebuilds them. A narrative so finely woven, it doesn’t just tell a story—it reminds you that even in the hardest moments of life, there’s something to be said about remembering and moving forward, even when you don’t have all the answers.

The first episode sets the tone so well: the high school timeline is all golden light, youthful chaos, and bubbling energy, while the adult timeline is cloaked in gray-blue, muted like emotions long buried. Kim Ram U, the quiet, top-of-the-class student, and Jung Hui Wan, the lively, mischievous girl with too much energy, meet in school and change names—a harmless prank that ends up transforming their lives. The way Ram U goes from frustrated to accepting this new name is unexpectedly charming and symbolic. It's not just about a name; it becomes a metaphor for stepping into each other’s shoes, burdens, and fates.

The supporting characters are a joy too: Hui Wan’s best friend Tae Gyeong and Ram U’s best friend Hong Seok add so much flavor to the high school timeline. Their chemistry hints at a possible love line, but more than that, their friendship feels real.

The adult timeline introduces loneliness and pain—Hui Wan is now distant, living a life she doesn’t want, weighed down by guilt. Then comes Ram U, knocking at her door, saying, “Long time no see,” as though nothing has changed. But everything has.

Especially the moment she says, "But you died four years ago," and the scene cuts to her alone, the room empty.

What makes this drama so better is its blend of genres. It’s youth, romance, fantasy, melodrama—seamlessly interwoven. One moment you're laughing at Hui Wan’s chaotic plans to stop Jisoo from confessing, and the next, you're hit with the overwhelming grief of her adult self, still mourning Ram U. Even the flashbacks, like their playful four-person trip, shine with joy before slipping into tragedy. There’s a constant balance of light and shadow, and the transitions are seamless.

Ram U being a grim reaper brings fantasy to the forefront, but not in an overpowering way. He tells Hui Wan she has a week to live and asks her to do ten things from his bucket list—funny, wild, sweet things that he never got to do. Skydiving, manga dates, breaking into school... all tinged with bittersweetness. And as they complete each task, the clock ticks down. There's always this quiet knowledge that they’re racing toward goodbye.

What truly breaks the heart is when reality starts seeping in. He’s not in photos. No one else can see him. And when the guilt hits her full force—thinking she caused his death—it’s devastating.

The fire, the name change, the stargazing trip—all small choices that led to something irreversible. "Just call my name and I'll die," she says. And he, with tears in his eyes, finally confesses: "I liked you and still like you."

It’s not just about Hui Wan and Ram U. It's about everyone around them. The friendship between Hui Wan and Tae Gyeong is genuine, filled with jealousy, love, and unspoken understanding. Ram U’s mother and Hui Wan’s father, once just neighbors, come to share their grief, offering healing without needing words. And Hong Seok—important to Ram U—is given space to process, to break, to grow. The conversation between Hui Wan and Hong Seok is one of the show’s most powerful: two people sharing guilt over the same person, realizing no one really had it easy.

Ram U’s family story adds another layer. A child born from an affair, a mother trying to shield her son from shame, a wife paying child support for a boy she never met—it’s messy, painful, human. And after losing him, Ram U’s mother is left with nothing but memories. When he visits her as a grim reaper and she can’t see him, it’s almost unbearable. But then, she doesn’t need to see to feel. That hug between her and Hui Wan? It broke me.

And still, the show doesn't let you drown in grief. The four-person travel plan, the reunion with old friends, the heartfelt attempts at moving on—they breathe life into the show. The scene where Hui Wan hides while Ram U speaks aloud in the school is hilarious. Her friends pushing her to reconnect, the senior girl trying hard to befriend her—it all paints a realistic picture of healing. Especially when we learn that senior girl can see Ram U, because she, too, had once stood on the edge.

That moment when Hui Wan’s death is written as suicide—it chills. But then we see the family preparing for her last day, her father learning saxophone, her sister making memories. And her words near the end:

"I don't want to change anything, because it all happened between us. As long as I remember, the truth doesn't change. I will remember you. I will live. Because loving me is loving you."

They never even became a couple. They never had the official "together" moment. But they had love. Real, raw, painful love that shaped them forever. He goes. The colors return. Life moves on. There’s an empty space now, but it’s one she learns to carry, not erase.

Way Back Love doesn’t romanticize death. It doesn’t erase pain or glorify sorrow. It acknowledges grief and says, “Yes, this happened. But so did love.” The acting is phenomenal, the soundtrack weaves seamlessly into emotion, and the writing respects the audience’s intelligence and heart.

It doesn’t end with a happily-ever-after or a tragedy. It ends with life. And that’s what makes it unforgettable. A new beginning, written not in the absence of pain but in its remembrance.

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What love is all about

“You told me that… time finally seems to be flowing. That’s enough. Don’t forget that. Keep thinking that way. No. That’s because you’re here. No. You can do it without me, too. We created this week together.”

If I had to talk about “Way Back Love” I would compare it to that comma followed by the adverb “too”. “You can do it without me, too.” That comma here takes on a symbolic meaning, becoming, in the very short break it creates in the sentence, an acknowledgement of the pain and the distress Jung Hee Wan who is also Kim Ram Woo is feeling. It also highlights the half-eaten regret voiced by Kim Ram Woo who is also Jung Hee Wan who wished he didn’t have to end his sentences with “too”. The adverb “too” contains their memories, their persevering love, the hole in their hearts that will never close. That “too” embodies how Jung Hee Wan will always miss Kim Ram Woo, will long for him as she tries to keep on living, to remember that that “too” is her strength but also a promise: the time they had won’t disappear, but the time she has now cannot be wasted.

The sentences I quoted in the beginning of this review says so much about the drama itself, but also its characters. Jung Hee Wan, Kim Ram Woo, Yoon Tae Gyeong, Lee Hong Seok, Hee Wan’s and Ram Woo’s family, they all have one thing in common: they love each other in the most genuine way. The love they give is one that pulses with every heartbeat, it’s one as malleable as clay, it transforms as the people they love grow and change. But it remains, always, everlasting. It’s a love that understands and doesn’t judge. It’s a love that brings out the best in people without trying to.

Ram Woo is a character that simply radiates kindness and Gong Yung’s embodied this trait so well with his gazes and his shy smiles. Watching him fall in love with Hee Wan warmed my heart. With only six episodes, Ram Woo and Hee Wan’s romance didn’t feel rushed at all and what a relieve it is to finally watch a drama with relationships that make sense. Their love is not told but shown in the way they look at each other, the way they talk and behave. That’s what I want more of! A simple “I love you” won’t cut it. Make me believe in the love characters share and I will stop complaining (I’ll tone it down at least). When they caught each other’s eyes during classes… Yes, I acted all silly because it was cute. It was innocent and beautiful. Them realising their feelings for each other was beautiful. And what should have become their fondest memories – the moment they voiced out their love to each other – it turned out to be the most tragic day of their lives.

Losing someone close to you is a pain so deep that words fail me. What words can come close to describing the hollow it leaves in your body and soul? When you grow up, go through the different stages of life, and they’re not by your side to live them with you. When time makes no sense to you anymore because the days feel all the same, because you see people whose life has resumed and yours has simply stopped and you don’t get it. There is nothing to understand, however finding a reason to explain what cannot be explained provides the illusion of comfort. Grief is a mystery. It’s both the purest form of love and the greatest sorrow. Kim Min Ha somehow succeeded to make us experience it and she was phenomenal. Her acting has such a rawness to it that whenever she cried, my throat tightened.
Her micro-expressions made the contrast between high-school Hee Wan and college Hee Wan all the more striking. “What happened to you, Kim Ram Woo?” Grief. One word, a thousand realities.

Since this review is a failed attempt to articulate my thoughts around this drama, I’ll simply end with what I adored: the relationship between the different characters.
The friendship between Hee Wan and Tae Gyeong and between Ram Woo and Hong Seok were such a delight to watch. Love that the drama took some time to develop their friendship despite the few episodes. One of my favourite moments in the drama is definitely the talk between Hee Wan and Hong Seok in present time, when Hong Seok gently but firmly states that he, too, did not overcome the void the passing of his best friend caused and that Hee Wan has no right to judge him on the way he lives his life. This scene was a stunning reminder of the complexity of grief and the many faces it can take.
I also loved the moments between Hee Wan and Ram Woo’s mother, Kim Jeong Seok. So often in life, you form bonds with the relatives of your friends and partners and yet when a breakup occurs, you both lose a friend or a partner and the bonds you formed with their family. This loss is rarely talked about. “She’s important to me, too.” Hee Wan’s reunion with Jeong Seok was healing to the both of them and it was beautiful to watch.

My review is repetitive but what this drama showed the viewers was nothing but beautiful. The heartfelt script allowed for complex topics to be addressed without judgement. The characters were all there to support each other. Ram Woo’s loss was a tragedy and, paradoxically, him coming back, allowing Hee Wan to starts her grieving, made her see that people might look like they have moved on but the hurt lingers. And that’s okay. Nothing will fill the void Ram Woo left in the lives of the people who loved him and this is proof of how loved he was and will always be. However, this love that started in high school, the kindness shared, the memories formed, the resolved misunderstandings, the pain experienced, Hee Wan is now able to live with it. She was always able to but Ram Woo brought the reassurance she needed. “You’re Jung Hee Wan and also Kim Ram Woo.” That kindness is something Hee Wan holds within too and it’s a flower Ram Woo wishes to see grow, even without him. “Because to us, loving myself means loving you.” Hee Wan, with her way with words, her paintings, her joy and sorrows, is someone to be treasured, by herself most importantly. This is exactly how I envision love: a feeling that, when received, helps you grow and when gone, remains a warmth in the pit of your stomach that reminds you that you are worth it and that you can do it on your own, too.

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OVERCOMING GREIF with a sprinkle of FANTASY.

the story is not new but the way they approached it by setting the the lost friend as the grim reaper who's here to take her life made this drama fresh. the writing draws out the emotions of each character wonderfully. the arc of our main character is beautiful.

the direction was perfect . the flashback sequences sometimes felt like they were shot by someone among the characters which added a bit of authenticity. the cinematography was excellent. so was the OST and screenplay.

the acting was so good , especially the FL lead.

Everything about this drama is perfect. the only reason i am not giving this a 10 is because it lacked the X factor for me to do so.

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to us, loving myself means loving you.

A deep and touching story in which different topics are discussed. This short drama contains 6 episodes in which we get to know the story of Jung Hui Wann (FL) and Kim Ram U (ML). Due to and unfortunate accident the ML dies, leaving the FL with guilt, depression and grief. The ML gets back into her life, being a grim reaper, with one message: she has one week before she dies.

And during the 6 episodes you see flashbacks of what happened between them in highschool and how not only their friendship but also their love towards each other blossomed only to be ended abruptly.

This drama had so many layers to it, although it was a short one. Very well done

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my brain splatter on this

nothing comes back, leaves and flowers dont repeat theirselves, they will once again bloom in spring. new flowers, new leaves. It was good but I got really annoyed at her but then i realized I hated they way she grieved...everyone around her told her to keep on living but it seemed like she understood it for a little moment. She did grasp that, her depndecy on ram woo annoyed me. but i dont know her emotions to hate the way she grieved, every other aspect of it was good. I did skip quiet a lot. I see them more of fiends ill ignore that they kissed or that romantic relationship, there was NO chemisrty. OST very good!! and the cutest intro too <3 Hong seok really made me sad, his only friend left him, he too was grieving, ram woos mom was also grieving but she found a way to keep on living. "To us, loving myself means loving you"

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Way Back Love: The Art of Moving Forward Without Letting Go

There’s a kind of magic in stories that don’t waste a single second of your time, and Way Back Love is that rare little comet — burning brightly, flying fast, and leaving a lingering glow in the soul long after it's gone from sight. At just six episodes, this drama pulls off a narrative feat many 16-episode series can only dream of: it makes you laugh, ache, breathe deeply with its characters, and gently nudges you toward healing. It feels less like a television show and more like a precious letter you find tucked away in a drawer, written during a time when you needed it most.

At the heart of Way Back Love are two stunning performances by Gong Myung and Kim Min-ha, who somehow manage to make every moment between them feel lived-in, like a favorite song you didn’t realize you remembered all the lyrics to. Kim Min-ha's Jung Hee-wan carries her depression with a weariness that doesn’t scream for attention but wraps around her like an old, heavy coat she forgot how to take off. Gong Myung’s Kim Ram-woo, her childhood friend turned gentle grim reaper, is the embodiment of what it feels like to miss someone so deeply that even in death, your soul keeps reaching out to them. Together, they balance the narrative tightrope between bittersweet joy and inevitable sorrow with such grace, it’s as if they were born to be in this story — whether sharing a bucket list moment under the soft morning sun or confronting the unbearable reality of goodbye.

But Way Back Love doesn’t just rest its laurels on its stellar leads. Its supporting cast is nothing short of magnificent. Ko Chang-seok, as Hee-wan’s father, brings a quiet, grieving dignity that threatens to break your heart with every small, careful gesture. Seo Young-hee, playing Ram-woo’s mother, delivers an emotional gut punch that leaves you gasping, and Jung Gun-joo, as Ram-woo’s best friend, gives a performance so tender it feels almost invasive to watch. Despite the tight six-episode format, every character is given enough breath and weight that they don't feel like supporting actors — they feel like essential constellations in this aching sky of a story.

The narrative structure of Way Back Love is refreshingly confident. It respects the audience’s time and intelligence, moving forward without filler, without needless side plots, and without coddling. The drama has a rhythm to it — a deliberate heartbeat — that lulls you into smiles in the first 40 minutes, then punches through your chest with sorrow in the final stretch. It’s a perfect dance of comedy and tragedy, never letting you get too comfortable, always reminding you that love and loss are two sides of the same coin.

One of the most beautiful and clever aspects of the story is how it turns something as simple as a name — a prank between friends — into the anchor of the entire narrative. In a world where a name can tether a soul, where calling someone by their true name can either set them free or bind them tighter to this earth, Way Back Love uses this device not just as a plot twist, but as a meditation on identity, memory, and the invisible threads that tie us to the people we love.

Visually and sonically, Way Back Love is a masterclass in storytelling. The drama knows exactly when to dazzle with bright colors and warm lighting to make you feel safe, and exactly when to strip the world down into grey, muted tones to expose the raw wound of grief. It’s a silent shift you don’t notice at first — until you realize the world has dimmed right alongside the characters’ hearts. The OST is a character of its own here, weaving through scenes with perfect precision. Loco and Jae Yeon’s Best Luck feels like the sound of a heart still daring to hope, while Salad Days by Eazy and If You by Kim Tae Rae crash into your chest like a tide when words aren't enough anymore. There are moments when the music and dialogue hit the same emotional note — literally — syncing together so perfectly that it feels like fate’s invisible hand guiding the story forward. I cannot overstate how rare and powerful that is. Whoever managed the audio for this drama deserves a standing ovation.

Of course, no drama is perfect. Some viewers might find the sudden jumps between past and present a bit disorienting — Way Back Love demands your full attention, like a friend telling you a deeply personal story they can only bear to say once. And those coming in expecting a standard fluffy romance may find themselves a little unmoored; while love is a key ingredient, this is a story much more about grief, survival guilt, and the desperate, clumsy attempts we make to hold onto life after it has already changed us forever. There’s a tenderness to its sadness that could be triggering for anyone freshly carrying their own heavy losses — tread carefully if you must.

Verdict:
Still, in the end, Way Back Love offers something rare and vital. It’s not here to make death seem noble or to pretend grief has clean edges. It reminds us that the people we love don't leave us — not really. They fold themselves quietly into the marrow of our bones, into the pulse of our blood, into the names we carry forward. And just because time moves on doesn’t mean we ever have to let them go. The real triumph of Way Back Love is that it teaches grief without bitterness, hope without cheap promises. It teaches that even in loss, we can choose to live. To really, stubbornly, beautifully live.

Way Back Love isn't just a drama. It's a memory you'll carry. A small, gentle hand on your back on the days when you can't quite stand. A story that softly reminds you that survival is an act of love — for yourself and for everyone who ever loved you.

Score: 8.5/10

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This is one of the best dramas in 2025 – and I know we’re not halfway through the year yet

An audacious claim, one might think, but I am typing this with a bad case of headache–from too much crying.

I am also currently wrapped up in a bittersweet anguish that comes from being reminded that a beautiful story is not always happy. And I think that what the series made me feel would stay with me for a long time.

The series does not have an outstanding nor a unique plot. A grim reaper traipsing in the human realm, and unexpectedly, bumping into romance? There are plenty of dramas who have already done that.

To be honest, I’m quite on the fence on the chemistry of the leads as well.

But, none of these matter. At all.

First, while I’m hesitant about the leads’ chemistry, their individual performance is stellar.

I just know that Gong Myung and Kim Min Ha were made for their role as they have portrayed their character really, really well.

Second, the story is not linear, and the expositions come in trickle.

As the plot is not unique, viewers might feel like they have already caught up and figured everything out after some time, until a little plot twists here and there would come right out of the gate—a great surprise, not overbearing, and something that may or may not make sense (ending is not conclusive).

Still, everything felt easy, smooth, and natural, despite the coalescence of fantasy, romance, youth, comedy, and melodrama genre–this is how you’ll know a writing is great.

I am also in awe by the brilliant use of plot devices in setting the tone and resolving an issue. This comes in (unremarkable, small) objects, color grading, and events. They do not initially stick out, assuming they’re intended to not stand out, but the lightning bolts and realizations would definitely come in the end.

The pacing is good and steady that watching it almost felt like a walk in the park—literally and figuratively. Viewers wouldn’t have to labor to catch up or slow down. The stride is just perfect.

There is consistency in the series, too.

Aside from romance, the series explores some really heavy themes: death, grief, and life.

Technicalities aside, what I love about the series is that it didn’t come off preachy about the grandeur of overcoming pain and choosing to live on.

Some may find comfort in the series, but personally, it felt like the story of my pain is being told.

The only bad thing about the series that I could think of is that the ending is not conclusive, which could be a dealbreaker for a lot of the viewers.

Still, I think there is beauty in not knowing everything. This way, like in real life, the story would feel authentic—harsh, real and meaningful.

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Grief is tough but is necessary to move on

“i’ll remember you. i’ll continue living. because to us, loving myself means loving you ». I’m just stuck with those words.

Small drama but funny, sad to the point it’s heartbreaking but at the end hope emerges. I’m glad Hee-wan overcame her pain and guilt and just a started to live her life without forgetting Ran-woo as he lives through her. Just sad he disappeared in the nature but I guess he fulfilled his mission so it’s time for him to leave her.

The lead’s performance were quite impressive (Big up to Kim Min-ha, hope to see her more)

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