Dear Diary,
Se-Jin apologized today.
Out of nowhere.
No warning.
No buildup.
Just a message.
And then a meeting.
And then… words.
Words I thought I needed for so long.
But when I finally heard them?
They barely registered.
Because nothing matters the way it used to.
Not him.
Not what he did.
Not the pain he caused.
Because now, the only thing I can see is Jung-Kyo — slipping.
And everything else feels like static.
1:08 PM
The text came while I was heating tea.
Se-Jin: "Do you have ten minutes? I know I don't deserve it."
I stared at it for a long time.
I almost didn't respond.
But something in me — maybe curiosity, maybe closure — said yes.
Me: "Ten minutes. Near the bookstore."
I didn't tell Jung-Kyo.
I didn't tell anyone.
I just walked.
Not out of anger.
Not even resentment.
But because I felt nothing.
And that… scared me.
1:57 PM
He looked different.
Smaller somehow.
Like time had deflated him.
His eyes were tired.
His mouth uncertain.
He stood up when he saw me, like he didn't believe I'd actually come.
"Mi-Chan," he said, voice quiet.
I nodded.
"Ten minutes," I said.
He sat back down.
I didn't.
2:03 PM
"I'm sorry," he said. "For everything."
I waited.
"For pushing you. For yelling. For not seeing what I was doing."
He looked up at me.
"I was jealous. Of you. Of how soft you were, even when the world was cruel."
I didn't respond.
"I thought if I could break you, I'd feel better."
Still nothing from me.
"I didn't. I just… broke myself."
He looked down again.
And for a second, I saw it — not the boy I used to know, but someone cracked open by regret.
Someone who realized too late what it means to hurt someone and still carry their name.
2:11 PM
I finally spoke.
"Thank you."
He blinked.
"That's all?" he asked.
I nodded.
"You don't want to yell?"
"No."
"You don't want me to explain?"
"I don't have the energy."
His face fell.
And then I said the thing I didn't plan to:
"There's someone I love who's dying."
He froze.
"I'm spending every second trying not to lose him. So, no. I don't have room left to hate you."
His eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again.
And this time, it sounded real.
But I didn't hug him.
Didn't cry.
I just turned, walked away, and let the wind swallow the moment whole.
Because the past doesn't matter when the present is shattering in your hands.
3:03 PM
I went straight to Jung-Kyo's apartment.
He was lying on the couch, wrapped in the same blanket.
The tea I brought yesterday still untouched.
His eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping.
I could tell by the way his fingers moved — twitching slightly, like they were trying to remember the shape of something they once held.
He opened his eyes when I sat down beside him.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Just tired."
He didn't press.
He never does.
Because we both know our tired isn't about sleep anymore.
It's about loss.
Even before it arrives.
4:21 PM
I held his hand for hours.
Watched the way his thumb moved in slow circles over mine.
Listened to his breath.
Every inhale sounded harder than the last.
I asked, "Did you eat today?"
He shook his head.
"Want me to make something?"
He shook his head again.
I kissed his knuckles.
Didn't cry.
But it's getting harder not to.
Because he's shrinking.
Not just physically.
But in spirit.
Like the light inside him is tired of fighting.
5:12 PM
We didn't talk about the tests.
Or the results.
Or the way his cheeks have hollowed even more.
We just sat.
And I read to him.
A poem he used to love.
"Some nights, the stars feel closer than your own hands.
Some nights, the silence holds you like a friend.
Some nights, you remember the name of every wound—
and still dare to speak of love again."
When I finished, I looked down.
His eyes were closed.
Tears slipping sideways into the cushion.
He didn't say anything.
And neither did I.
Because some pain can't be named.
Only witnessed.
6:03 PM
I helped him sit up.
He leaned against me like he weighed nothing.
Like he didn't want to hold himself upright anymore.
And maybe he didn't.
Maybe he's tired of pretending.
I am too.
7:15 PM
He asked me, "Do you believe people get to choose their end?"
I froze.
Then whispered, "Sometimes."
He nodded.
"I think if I could choose… I'd fall asleep in your arms."
Tears blurred my vision.
"That's not funny," I said.
"It wasn't meant to be."
He looked at me.
Really looked.
And said, "I'm not afraid of death, Mi-Chan."
I swallowed hard.
"What are you afraid of?"
He smiled — faint, fragile.
"Leaving you behind."
8:01 PM
I laid with him for the rest of the night.
Head on his chest.
Listening.
To the heartbeat I've come to memorize.
To the breath I know is running out.
To the silence he no longer fills with lies.
He didn't say "cancer."
Didn't say "terminal."
But he didn't need to.
Because his body has already said everything.
And my grief has already started answering back.
9:42 PM
I keep thinking about Se-Jin's face when I said I was losing someone.
The way his lips trembled.
The way he stepped back like regret could fix what he broke.
But it can't.
Because I don't care anymore.
Not about him.
Not about what happened.
Grief has rewritten everything I thought mattered.
And all that's left is this.
The boy in my arms.
The breath against my shoulder.
The way his fingers still reach for mine in the dark.
10:33 PM
I'm still awake.
Writing this by candlelight while he sleeps.
There's a smell in the room — his shampoo, the tea cooling on the table, and something else.
A kind of finality.
A kind of waiting.
I hate it.
But I don't fight it.
Because fighting won't save him.
Only love will.
And even that might not be enough.
11:01 PM
I wrote him another letter tonight.
Tucked it into my bag.
For later.
"Dear Jung-Kyo,
I forgive you for all the things you're too afraid to say.
I forgive your silence.
Your soft lies.
You're fading.
I forgive you for leaving.
Not because I want you to —but because I understand now that love can't keep someone alive.
It can only make them feel less alone as they go.
And if all I get is this…
Holding you while you sleep.
Whispering, "Stay," into your hair.
Letting my tears fall quietly into your shoulder —
Then I'll take it.
I'll carry it.
I'll carry you.
Forever.
Even after.
– Mi-Chan"
I didn't think I could cry anymore.
But I was wrong.
Because love like this doesn't dry up.
It just keeps spilling.
Like light from a dying star.
– Mi-Chan