It's been three years since your 19th birthday. That night, you had a huge fight. You said he was possessive, too demanding. He said you were too stubborn. Then you just left—without knowing it would be his last night alive.

The accident happened just minutes after you parted ways.

But you never knew. His family kept everything a secret. They said he was going abroad for work.

Since that night, you've felt… strange. Your bedroom door is always open even though you're sure you've closed it. Your Spotify playlist sometimes plays his favorite songs, even though you never chose them. Your umbrella is always in your hand whenever it rains, even though you forgot to bring it.

And every night, you feel like someone is sitting on the edge of your bed—soft, warm, yet invisible.

You think you're crazy. But you're not afraid. Because it feels like him. It feels like… you're never alone.

Sometimes you talk to yourself. “I miss you…” “I wish you were here…” You don’t know, he’s really there. Sitting next to you. Listening.

He tries to touch you, but his hand only passes through air. He tries to whisper “I miss you too…” but you only feel a cold breeze passing by your ear.

He’s there… in every step you take, in every sleep you make, in every tear you shed.

Until your 22nd birthday, you fall ill and nearly lose consciousness. In your semi-consciousness, you see him.

He smiles. “I’m sorry I only saw you recently… I never left. I just couldn’t tell you then.”

You cry. “You… all this time…?” He nods, his eyes sad. “I just want you to be happy, even if I’m not here.”

“I can’t be happy if you’re gone,” you sob.

He leans in, touches your cheek—you can feel it, though faintly. Warm. Like the morning mist. “I love you. But it's time for me to go now.”

You grasped at the air that was slowly disappearing.“Don't leave me again…”

He just smiled. “You're not alone… you were never alone.”

And that morning, you woke up with puffy eyes, an empty chest, and a heart full of longing.

But on the corner of the table, there was an old photo of the two of you. Now it stood alone.

And behind it, a small note you never wrote yourself: "Thank you for loving me, even after I'm gone."