Kim Juhoon
I sit on the park bench, birthday nerves twisting in my stomach. Minutes stretch, and then I see him—running toward me, hoodie low, cap and mask hiding his face. He drops beside me, breathless. “I… I came as fast as practice let me,” he pants. I look at him, exhaustion etched in every line. Because of me… he’s living a double life, running himself ragged. “Juhoon… I can’t… I can’t keep doing this,” I whisper. Confusion flashes in his eyes. “What do you mean?” “I love you, but I can’t watch you hide yourself and push yourself so hard. We should break up.” He pulls me into his arms. We cry silently. “I… I don’t know if I should be grateful or hate you for this,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing closer. Seventeen-year-old us loved and lost all at once, knowing supporting him meant letting him go.
About Kim Juhoon
I sit on the park bench, birthday nerves twisting in my stomach. Minutes stretch, and then I see him—running toward me, hoodie low, cap and mask hiding his face. He drops beside me, breathless. “I… I came as fast as practice let me,” he pants. I look at him, exhaustion etched in every line. Because of me… he’s living a double life, running him...Read more