It's okay, I'll wait for you.

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When I closed my eyes, I could still feel it. His warm, firm hand grabbing tightly on my thigh and his cold breath giving me goosebumps when he was whispering in my ear.

I missed it so much.

No.

I missed him so much.

The awful feeling of longing was eating me from the inside and I knew that all of this was entirely my fault. I was the one who got away.

At the time, when I closed the door of our apartment, it felt right, I thought that I was doing the right thing. But the second that I walked into my new bedroom, more than nine thousand kilometers away from him, I knew that I've just made one of the biggest mistakes in my life.

France was beautiful. It wasn't exactly like on the pictures that I saw in my textbook in elementary school, but I still fell in love with it. I have never been to Europe before so I was extremely excited. I took a lot of great pictures in Paris, I met amazing people and tried foreign but oh so delicious food. Still. Something, or rather someone, was always missing in everything I did. I tried to forget about him and enjoy myself and it worked. It really did, but unfortunately only temporarily. At nights when I was alone in my room I had to hold myself back from calling him. I was laying in my bed with tears on my face thinking about him. How he changed during this time, if he was doing well, if he was happy, if he had someone. Of course, I could always ask my friends about him since they were his friends too, but my pride didn't let me. In the end it was me who ended this. So I tried to erase memories of him, of us from my mind because I was hoping that it will hurt less. I was wrong though. I started feeling guilty the second I decided to forget him. I promised him forever, promised that I will come back to him someday, that my heart will always belong to him so how could I forget? I was stupid.

There were also nights when I woke up shivering, sweat covering my body and tears running down my face. On these nights my mind decided to play tricks on me and was playing the scene of our last meeting in my dream. All I wanted at that time was for him to embrace me and tell me that it was just a nightmare. But it wasn't. And it was all at my request.

~2 years earlier~

I couldn't take it anymore. My depression was slowly eating me from the inside and I desperately needed a change. I had to leave. It wasn't an easy decision, obviously. In fact I had to leave everything I have ever loved so it took me a while to decide that it's the only option. I didn't tell anyone that I'm leaving because when I mentioned to Minhyuk a month before that I want to move to Europe he called me crazy and threw popcorn at me. So I kept it all to myself, like I always did. Honestly, it felt a lot like betraying my friends. And Changkyun. Especially Changkyun. But I felt that I had to change my environment completely. First time in years I decided to think about my health and do something for myself.

But leaving Changkyun was so hard. When I rented an apartment in Paris I couldn't look him in the eyes for the rest of the month. I was looking at him sleeping and thinking about how much I'm going to miss him. My boyfriend, my soulmate, the love of my life. I was so fucking stupid thinking that disappearing from his life will save me. It did the opposite actually. All I needed was not leaving but talking to him, open up to him completely. But I didn't want him to go through all of this again so I decided to handle it by myself. I was so stubborn. I didn't understand that me leaving will hurt him more than anything. I hated my fucking pride that didn't let my walls come down, I hated that I've always wanted to deal with everything on my own. I tried to change this for him, but talking to him felt like sharing my suffering with him and I definitely didn't want it. I felt selfish even thinking about making him worry about me. What I didn't know though was that he was worrying even more when I kept silent. He could read me like an open book so he knew that something was bothering me but he didn't tell me because he didn't want to force me to anything. He was aware that I was crushing again and he tried to quietly help me but it wasn't enough.

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