#210326

📸누나비(NUNA V)

©️TW:_nuna_V

📸Sòrte (소르테)

©️TW:SORTE613

📸애플뷔 APPLE_V 🍏🍎 BTS V FAN ACCOUNT

©️TW:APPLE_V_KR

Well, the only thing my mind took as proof in that moment weren’t the clothes he left behind – not the light brown sweatpants and a white T-shirt that smelled like him so much I slept in it for two nights straight – or the pictures and videos of our drunken endeavors in my gallery. It also wasn’t the tales I’d tell or the diary pages soaked in the pain of my existence for the last few months. No. What my mind decided to take as proof of our closeness, our “relationship” – even though it wasn’t ever truly defined, how he said himself a whole year later, randomly wandering into our Whatsapp chat to catch up on life after  the pains long disappeared – it was the simple fact that we spent all 24 hours of the day together. 

It’s a funny concept, I get it. A silly one. I told my friend about it once, and she didn’t really understand – and I can’t blame her. It’s a strange thing to think about, one you can only ever really come up with when your system is running on last drops of vodka mixed with iced tea you had that night. But it’s fairly simple, really. We spent each and every hour of the day together. And I don’t mean at one time – just minutes and hours scattered across the 24 hours on different days, our bodies in each other’s presence.

Me and him usually spent the time frame between 4 pm to midnight, sometimes even 2 am (depending on my schedule next day and whether I had to wake up for my 8 am class) together. It was our usual time. We would meet at his dorm room and watch a movie before we would slowly fall into each other, our bodies finding comfort in each other’s touch. 

The only night we spent together was on our trip to Bratislava. It left me feeling bitter, unwanted and rejected – for it was the night I wanted his body more than he wanted mine – and even though I still find it hard to move on from it, at least it added to the 24-hour time span. It was proof.

We didn’t leave the capital until 1 pm that time. The missing hours were added on the day he had to fly back home. We never did much, but at least we were together. It was real – our connection. We weren’t meeting just in after hours. I meant more to him than the timeframe between 4 pm to midnight.

I hadn’t thought of this concept for a long time. It only appeared in my mind again a whole year later – a stupid coincidence, another pisces man I let play with my heart. But this time, the realization shattered me.

No 24 hours. Not even a full 12. We spent many evenings together, spilling secrets to each other on abandoned playgrounds and behind roaring clubs, but the timeframe was always the same. Nine pm to 2 am. Five hours of the 24 we have in the day.

I never saw him in the daylight. We never went to each other’s dorm room, never cuddled on the coach. We never went to Bratislava. We didn’t take the train together. We never took that damned polaroid. There’s no proof of me ever being in his life – other than the blurry selfies in my phone. For all I know, in his life, it’s almost like I never even existed.

I have no proof of our closeness. No factual information I could point my finger at. He never introduced me to his friends. He never even asked me out. And you know what that means?

Perhaps, it never really happened. It never really mattered, and

210326 Jimin’s Tweet

오늘도 여러분이 행복한 하루를 보내시면 좋겠습니다. 식사도 거르지 말고 꼭 챙겨하세요 #JIMIN

I hope you all have a happy day today as well. Also make sure that you aren’t skipping your meals #JIMIN