I don't feel the urge to message him anymore.
I don't feel the urge to prove anything to myself either.
There was a time when I needed closure from him.
Now I understand something gently—
He was never supposed to give it.
Closure isn't something a celebrity hands to a fan.
It's something you build when you stop expecting them to fill a space they were never meant to fill.
Sometimes I think about everything that phase gave me.
Not the fantasies.
Not the "what if" scenarios.
But the comfort.
The distraction during stressful days.
The quiet excitement before sleeping.
The reminder that the world was bigger than my neighborhood.
For that, I'm grateful.
Not in a dramatic, poetic way.
Just honestly.
He never promised me anything.
He never led me on.
He never asked for my attachment.
I built that world myself.
And I can't be angry at someone for existing beautifully in it.
There was a time when I wanted him to be mine.
Now I understand—
He doesn't need to be mine to have mattered.
Some people enter your life without ever entering your life.
They exist on a screen.
In your imagination.
In a certain season of your growth.
And then they slowly fade into memory.
Not because they did something wrong.
But because you evolved.
If I ever saw him in real life now, I don't think I would freeze.
I don't think I would run.
I think I would just look at him the way you look at a place you once loved visiting.
With familiarity.
With softness.
But without need.
Thank you, Seo Juhan.
For being a phase I once thought was permanent.
For being a mirror I didn't know I was looking into.
For unknowingly teaching me that admiration is not the same as identity.
You don't know me.
You never will.
And that's okay.
Because I know me now.
And that's enough.
Some stories don't end with possession.
They end with distance that feels peaceful.
And for the first time—
Distance doesn't hurt anymore.