I was cold and empty. He was gone? There was no way! Why would he disappear? I was unable to focus on my studying as I called Hansol more than 56 times. What was he doing? Stanford had been his dream school for such a long time and he had finally been admitted! He had been so engrossed with Stanford when we had been dating...there was no way he would run away...unless...because of me?

I stared at my phone in horror. He couldn't have run away, or when considering a worse case, he couldn't have killed himself? Because of me?

The worst case scenarios started running through my head. I imagined his funeral, his body, never hearing his voice again and broke down. He couldn't have. Please...no. 

During class, I fainted during my professor's lecture and found myself in the infirmary when I woke up. I grabbed for my phone to see if there were any returned calls from Hansol. 

None. 

But there was a notification from CNN...

"Stanford student found dead..."

I stopped reading after that and flung myself off of the small, hard bed in the infirmary, running. I gripped my phone in one hand and sprinted up the staircase to the roof of the main campus building. 

I slowly walked towards the edge of the building, feeling nothing inside. Why did Hansol have to do that? Why couldn't he have accepted the fact that we were never meant to be? Then I bit my lip, condemning myself for being a hypocrite. I had never accepted the fact th