PROLOUGE

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In the quiet solitude of my room, I find myself compelled to begin this journal, a chronicle of the love I once held so dear. As the pen touches paper, it's as though I am reaching across the chasm of time to grasp those cherished memories that have become the essence of my existence.

His name dances on these pages like a melody, a sweet and haunting refrain that resonates deep within my soul. He was the one who filled my life with light, the beacon that guided me through the darkest of storms.

Each chapter that unfolds here will be a testament to why I loved him so fiercely. It is in these words that I hope to preserve our shared moments, the laughter and tears, the adventures and quiet nights spent together. They are the fragments of a love story that once felt eternal.

But as I pen these words, I know that eternity is an illusion. For the last chapter of this journal, the one I fear the most, will be the one where I must confront the painful truth - that he is gone. It is a truth I have been avoiding, clinging to the remnants of what once was.

In the end, I will write that final chapter, not as an ending, but as a beginning of a different kind. A beginning of acceptance, of learning to let go, and of finding a way to keep his memory alive while setting myself free from the weight of grief.

This journal will be my sanctuary, my confidant, and my solace as I navigate this journey of love and loss. Here, in these pages, I will find the strength to carry on and, eventually, to heal. —Kang Seulgi

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