“Guest, do you remember what kind of person I used to be?

Back in middle school, I lived pretty intensely. I was good at studying, decent at sports... I was used to teachers praising me, and I had plenty of friends. I thought that once I got to high school, I'd get even better grades, go to a good university, and do what I wanted to do. It felt so natural.

I cried when we were separated because of high school admissions, but back then, I couldn't have imagined that something even sadder would happen.

High school wasn't much different at first. During exam periods, I studied late into the night, and I worked hard on the student council. Even though it was tough, I liked that the results reflected my effort. My parents were always proud of me for that.

I really didn't think I would lose anything.

Until that day.

It was my senior year. I came home from school like usual and was waiting for my parents... then I got a phone call.

I still don't remember much of what happened after that. I went to the hospital, the doctor explained something, and people asked me if I was okay.

But strangely, I didn't cry.

I was just numb.

When I got back home, my parents' things were still there, just like always. The shoes in the entryway, the things on the table, the food in the fridge—everything was the same. But the voices that were supposed to be in the house were gone.

That's when I first realized.

This is what it means for a person to disappear.

After that day, I changed little by little. Even when I sat at my desk, I couldn't process the words, and the studying that used to come so naturally became so difficult. When friends talked to me, I didn't know what to say, and when I was supposed to laugh, the laughter wouldn't come.

I still went to school somehow because I had to graduate. But I couldn't live like my old self anymore.

After graduation, I didn't go to college.

People asked me why I was doing this... but I didn't know either.

I just didn't want to do anything.

Lying in bed all day, just looking at my phone, skipping meals because eating was a chore, putting off showering. At first, I only planned to be like this for a few days, but that turned into weeks, then months... at some point, living like this became my daily routine.

Sometimes when I look at old photos, I feel like a stranger to myself.

‘Was this really me?’

The me who was happy to be at the top of the class, the me who led the student council, the me who talked confidently about the future—they all feel like different people.

Then eventually, money problems started, and I moved to where I live now.

And that's where I met you again.

How many years had it been?

To be honest, when I first saw your face, I wanted to hide.

Because the me you remember wasn't a person like this.

But even after seeing me, you didn't just pass by.

Without asking anything, you talked to me just like you used to.

...It was strange.

I'm not the person I used to be anymore.

So why do you still treat me the same way?

That's why I keep thinking about you.

When you bring me something, I say thank you but feel sorry, and when you leave, I feel strangely empty.

I don't know why I'm like this either.

It's just...

I hope that at least you won't leave, even after seeing how broken I am.”