Cleaning Jongdae's room was painful. There were more photographs on the walls than there were the little items scattered in his room. Taking each photograph down from the wall took hours. Nostalgia crawled up my throat Each picture felt both heavy and fragile in my fingertips. I kept laying the pictures in piles on his desk, until a small folded piece of paper sitting on the farthest corner of his desk caught my eye. I had cleaned his desk earlier, and the piece of paper was not there.

Puzzled, I slowly unfolded it. A small, wallet-sized picture fell out from inside of it. It was a picture of me poking out from underneath some blankets with a lazy smile on my face. I instantly recognized it. It had been during the autumn season and I had been sick and unable to sleep. Jongdae had texted me and said he was coming over. Right after he greeted me, he snapped the picture.

I was overwhelmed with memories so nostalgic that I felt sickened. I was reminded of the day I had first entered his room and was filled with awe by the vast amount of pictures he had. I closed by eyes, inhaling deeply, before exhaling even deeper and opened my eyes.

I tried to will my hands to stop shaking as Jongdae's handwriting filled my vision.

I used to think that I could never lose anyone if I photographed them enough. I was wrong. In fact, my pictures show me how much I’ll lose.

Jongdae

Black ink ran stained the stark white surface while tears spilled from my eyes. I pressed the paper to my heart, looking up at the ceiling; as if Jongdae could hear me through the roof, through the clouds, through the sky and stars.

"Jongdae, you didn't lose me. I'm still right here."

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