University.
A new place.New people.A new life.
Everything should have been a fresh start.
I stood in the middle of the campus, watching people walk past. Voices, laughter, the energy of new beginnings filled the air.
But me—
I felt like I was still standing in the same place.
"Phat, over here!"
A new friend called out from across the courtyard.
I hurried over, trying to adjust, trying to smile, trying to make everything feel like I belonged.
Classes began.
The schedule grew tighter, the workload heavier, life moved faster. Everything became so busy that I barely had time to think.
But at night, everything quieted down again.
I lay on my dorm bed, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. The light from outside filtered in softly through the window.
No sounds from the house next door.No familiar glow of lights.
No—
him.
I turned to the side, trying to sleep.
But I couldn't.
"…What am I thinking about?"
I murmured to myself, even though the answer was obvious.
I picked up my phone. The screen lit up in the dark.
My fingers scrolled through contacts, old chats, countless names—
until they stopped.
At one name.
Kan.
No messages.No conversation.
Just a name… still there.
I stared at it for a long time, not even knowing what I was waiting for.
In the end, I locked the screen and put it down.
Just like always.
The next day, I continued my life.
Studying, working, laughing with friends. Everything looked normal.
But sometimes—
in brief moments—
I still found myself thinking of him.
When I saw someone studying under a warm light.When someone spoke bluntly without thinking.When someone called my name.
It reminded me of him… without warning.
"Phat, are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot."
A friend asked.
I flinched slightly, then smiled.
"I'm fine. Just a bit tired."
A simple answer. One that always worked.
But the truth was—
it wasn't just tiredness.
It was something… that hadn't gone away.
I started getting used to my new life.
I laughed more.Some days, I didn't think about him at all.
But on certain nights—
especially the ones that felt too quiet—
I would still pick up my phone
and look at the same name
over and over again.
Even though I knew—
nothing had changed.
And I still wasn't brave enough
to be the one who started anything.
Because deep down,
I was still afraid.
Afraid that if I stepped back into it again,
everything I tried to forget
would come rushing back.
And this time—
it might hurt even more.