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The worst part wasn't the distance.
You could survive different countries.
You'd survived all of that for three years.
The worst part was that Henry was still somehow the person you wanted to tell everything to.
Every song you wrote at three in the morning.
Every outfit you were excited about.
Every time something reminded you of him.
Which happened far too often.
When Henry left SM, everyone expected things to change.
Friendships faded all the time in the industry.
But somehow yours never did.
The day he left, you'd sat together in one of the practice rooms.
Neither of you had wanted to acknowledge it.
Because acknowledging it made it real.
"You better not forget me."
Henry had looked genuinely offended.
"People say that and then disappear."
He pointed at you dramatically.
"I literally text you every day."
"So if you stop, I'll know you've betrayed me."
"You make this sound like a historical drama."
But then his smile softened.
The joking vanished immediately.
You hooked yours around it.
You had kept that promise.
Sometimes entire conversations consisting only of cat pictures.
You spoke so often that people assumed you saw each other regularly.
Because every time schedules almost aligned—
And somehow you still hadn't managed to be in the same room.
At first it had been fine.
Then the missing changed.
And somewhere during those three years, you made a horrifying discovery.
You were in love with him.
You didn't know exactly when it happened.
Maybe it had always been there.
Maybe it had grown slowly.
Maybe it was hearing his voice after exhausting days and feeling instantly better.
Maybe it was how he remembered every tiny detail about your life.
Maybe it was how he still called when he knew you were stressed.
Maybe it was how he always made time.
No matter how busy he got.
No matter how exhausted he was.
No matter what country he was in.
The realization ruined you.
Because now missing him wasn't just missing your best friend.
Now it was missing someone you loved.
Someone you couldn't touch.
And lately things had gotten worse.
Your schedule had been relentless for months.
And slowly started falling apart.
You were good at hiding it.
Then went home and cried.
The loneliness was what got you.
You were surrounded by people constantly.
Yet somehow you'd never felt more alone.
When everything got quiet.
When there were no cameras.
And the ache in your chest.
You started sleeping less.
Smiling less when nobody was watching.
You were sitting on your couch.
Blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
Phone buzzing beside you.
You'd spent almost an hour crying.
Or maybe for every reason.
Briefly considered ignoring it.
His face immediately appeared.
For a second everything felt normal.
Then his expression changed.
"Your eyes are literally red."
"How long have you been crying?"
Something in your chest twisted.
After all these years he always knew.
You couldn't do it anymore.
Couldn't keep carrying everything.
Henry immediately sat forward.
Concern flooding his face.
The kind you couldn't stop.
The words came out broken.
You laughed through tears.
His expression shattered.
Three years of pretending you were okay.
Three years of smiling through screens.
Three years of telling each other you'd meet soon.
And now suddenly all of it came pouring out.
Tears streamed down your face.
"You don't know how bad it's gotten."
The silence that followed was awful.
"I haven't been doing well."
Henry immediately straightened.
Your voice sounded hollow.
"I don't know how to stop feeling like this."
When he opened them again, they looked devastated.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Because you didn't want to worry him.
Because everyone was busy.
Because you didn't want to be a burden.
Because you thought you could handle it.
He disappeared from camera.
You heard drawers opening.
A minute later he returned.
Your heart nearly stopped.
"You don't get to tell me no."
"You've been suffering for months."
"And I'm on another continent."
Like nothing in the world could stop him.
And for the first time in months—
You felt a tiny bit better.
Your hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Henry's flight had landed twenty minutes ago.
You'd spent three years waiting.
Now twenty minutes felt unbearable.
And completely different.
And immediately dropped his suitcase.
His arms were around you.
And yours were around him.
Three years disappeared instantly.
You buried your face in his shoulder.
Henry held you even tighter.
You started crying again.
Not for a very long time.
You became practically inseparable.
Conversations until sunrise.
And whenever he sat beside you—
Not because you meant to.
But because your brain still couldn't believe he was real.
But he never said anything.
Because after three years apart—
He couldn't stop touching you either.
One night you fell asleep on the couch.
Hand gripping his hoodie.
Because for the first time since arriving—
Neither of you ever wanted to do long-distance friendship again.
Especially not when the feelings between you had quietly become something much bigger.
His fingers gently brushed your hair.
But your grip tightened anyway.
He wasn't going anywhere.
And for the first time in a very long while—
Neither of you had to miss each other anymore.
