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Mingi used to think he was born broken, not visibly broken at least not in a way anyone else could see but rather quietly and hidden. Like there was something missing inside of him that everyone else seemed to have. An instruction manual, a map, a reason. Just something and he didn't have it.
He spent years watching people live their lives effortlessly while he fought wars inside his own head. The anxiety that never stopped, the sadness that appeared without warning, the constant feeling that he was too much but never enough all at the same time. He felt like something was wrong with him and he didn't know what it was.
He tried everything. Therapy, medication, journaling, pretending, smiling, lying, but nothing ever lasted.The darkness always came back. Eventually, Mingi stopped searching for a cure. Maybe there wasn't one. Maybe there wasn't one for someone like him. Maybe this was simply just who he was.
Then he met Jeong Yunho.
It happened on an ordinary Tuesday. The kind of day nobody remembers. The crowded lecture hall filled with people as someone takes a seat beside him. Someone with a bright smile and puppy like eyes looked at him.
"Is anyone sitting here?" the puppy eyed boy asked.
Mingi looked up and for the first time in weeks, he smiled back. He simply just said "No."
Yunho entered his life quietly. Like sunlight creeping through curtains. Never forcing his way in. Never demanding anything. He just stayed. He listened like really listened. Especially when Mingi rambled or when he fell silent. Even when he apologized for things that didn't need apologies.
"You don't have to say sorry all the time." Yunho stated one day after hearing too many sorrys from the other.
Mingi laughed bitterly. "You'd be surprised."
Yunho simply shook his head. "No. I don't think I would."
Being with Yunho felt strange. Good kind of strange. The kind of strange that made Mingi realize how long he'd been surviving instead of living.
The world looked different now. Food tasted better. Music sounded brighter. Bad days still existed but now there were good days too. There were Days where his chest didn't feel so heavy. Days where he didn't hate himself. Days where he forgot there was something wrong with him.
One evening they sat on the rooftop of Yunho's apartment. The city lights sparkled beneath them. Mingi rested his head on Yunho's shoulder. The wind blowing through their hair. Before he could stop himself, he whispered. "I think you're the cure."
Yunho laughed softly. "For what?"
"For whatever's wrong with me."
The smile disappeared. Yunho turned toward him. His expression was gentle. Painfully gentle.
"Mingi."
"I'm serious."
"No." His hand found Mingi's. "I'm not."
Mingi frowned. "I'm not What?"
"A cure." Yunho squeezed his fingers. "Also there's nothing wrong with you."
Mingi wanted to believe him. God, he wanted to but loving someone and believing them weren't always the same thing.
Years passed. Somehow Yunho became everything. His best friend. His home. His safe place. The first person he called when something good happened. The first person he called when everything went wrong. The person who calmed every panic attack. The person who knew every fear. The person who carried every burden. And neither of them noticed what was happening. Not at first because it felt like love.
Yunho never complained. Even when Mingi called at three in the morning. Even when he canceled plans because his anxiety became unbearable. Even when he spent entire nights talking him through breakdowns.
Yunho stayed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until staying became exhausting.
It started small. Dark circles under Yunho's eyes. A tired smile. Long pauses. Moments where he looked just as lost as Mingi felt but Mingi didn't see it because he was still drowning. And Yunho was his lifeboat. People don't usually notice when lifeboats start sinking too.
The end arrived quietly. The way heartbreak often does. Not with screaming. Not with anger. Just exhaustion.
"We need to talk." was all Yunho said one day. Four words and suddenly Mingi couldn't breathe.
Yunho sat across from him on the couch that had once felt like home. His eyes were red. His shoulders slumped. He looked tired in a way Mingi had never seen before.
"I love you." The words came first. Which somehow made everything worse.
"I know."
Yunho nodded. His lip trembled. "But I don't think I can do this anymore."
The room went silent. Mingi stared. Waiting for the punchline. Waiting for reality to return. It never did.
"What do you mean?"
Yunho looked down. Then back up at him. There were tears in his puppy like eyes.
"I don't know how to help you anymore."
The words hit harder than anything else could have because they sounded like failure. His failure.
"You help me all the time."
"Mingi."
"You do." His voice cracked. "You make everything better."
Yunho closed his eyes. Like those words hurt. Like they physically hurt him because honestly deep down they did. They hurt like hell.
"That's the problem."
Mingi froze.
"You think I'm responsible for making things better."
The tears finally spilled. Not from Mingi. From Yunho. And somehow that was worse. Much worse. Because Yunho never cried. At least not in front of him.
"I wanted to support you." Yunho's voice shook.
"I wanted to love you." A tear slipped down Yunho's face. "But somewhere along the way..." He laughed bitterly.
"I stopped being your boyfriend."
Silence.
"I became your lifeline min. Not that I'm complaining about it but I can't be your lifeline if I'm losing it myself."
Everything shattered. Because suddenly Mingi could see it. Every late-night call. Every panic attack. Every fear. Every burden. Every piece of himself he'd handed to Yunho. Yunho had carried all of it. Alone.
"You saved me."
The words escaped before he could stop them. Immediately, Yunho looked devastated. Like Mingi had just confirmed his worst fear.
"No." Yunho whispered. "I didn't."
"You did."
"No." His voice cracked.
"You survived." Another tear fell. "Please stop giving me credit for that."
They broke up that night. Not because they stopped loving each other because honestly deep down they never did stop loving the other. Not because they wanted to but because Yunho had spent years keeping Mingi alive while forgetting how to keep himself alive too. And because Mingi had accidentally built his healing around another person. No one was the villain. That somehow made it hurt more.
Months later, Mingi sat in a therapist's office. Not because Yunho told him to. Not because he wanted Yunho back. But because he finally understood something.
Yunho was never the cure. No person could be. That wasn't fair. Healing had to belong to him.
Years passed. The world moved on, But neither of them did completely. Mingi never deleted Yunho's number. Some nights he'd stare at it. Thumb hovering over the call button.
One tap away.
One second away.
One hey away.
But he never pressed it.
What could he even say?
Sorry I loved you so much that I forgot you were human too?
Sorry I still miss you?
Sorry nobody else has ever felt like home?
Across the city, Yunho kept a box filled with movie tickets, photographs, old receipts and a hoodie Mingi left behind. Tiny pieces of a life that no longer existed. Sometimes he'd sit on the floor and look through everything. Smiling. Then crying. Then putting it all away again. The same cycle every single time.
Neither of them found love again. Not really. They tried. God, they tried. But every laugh was compared to another laugh. Every smile was compared to another smile. Every touch felt slightly wrong. Not because other people weren't wonderful. But because they weren't each other.
One winter night, Mingi found Yunho's old hoodie buried in his closet. The navy blue one he'd stolen years ago. The one that barely smelled like him anymore.
He sat on the floor holding it. And cried. Not because he wanted the relationship back. Not because he missed being loved. But because he missed Yunho.
The person.
His best friend.
The love of his life.
The boy who pressed gentle kisses on his temples and asked if he'd eaten.
The boy who knew how to make him laugh when breathing felt difficult.
The boy who had loved him enough to leave.
At that exact moment, miles away, Yunho was looking at an old photo too. A blurry picture from a convenience store date. Mingi was laughing so hard his eyes had disappeared.
Yunho traced the image with trembling fingers as he cried. Despite everything the pain, the heartbreak, the years, He still loved him. Just ad much as when they were together, maybe even more now.
One day Mingi saw a recent picture of Yunho online. He looked older, healthier, still as beautiful as the first day he met him. The same puppy looking eyes and the bright smile he once gave him. His finger hovered over the message button.
Hey. Just three letters. That's all. Three letters. Years of silence could end with three letters.
But then fear arrived.
What if Yunho was happier now?
What if hearing from him hurt?
What if reaching out was selfish?
So he closed the app and said nothing.
What Mingi didn't know was that Yunho had spent that same evening staring at his profile too. Looking at a photo where Mingi was smiling. A real smile. The kind Yunho used to spend hours trying to bring out. His thumb hovered over the message button. Then stopped. For all the same reasons.
Neither of them knew. Neither knew how close they came. How heartbreakingly close they were to each other again.
Years later, they would still think about each other. Not every day. Not like before. But enough. Always enough. Because some loves don't end. They settle into your bones. Become part of who you are. A scar you stop touching but never lose.
Mingi eventually understood something Yunho had tried to tell him all those years ago. Yunho wasn't the cure. He never was. No person could be. Healing wasn't a boyfriend. It wasn't being saved. It wasn't love. Healing was messy and painful and slow. It belonged to him. It finally did.
Sometimes, late at night, when the world was quiet and his heart was honest, Mingi would allow himself one selfish thought. Not that Yunho was the cure. Not anymore at least. Just that before everything fell apart, Before the exhaustion, Before the silence, Before the goodbye, Yunho had been the closest thing he ever known and had to what he believed was the cure.
Maybe that was why losing Yunho never stopped hurting. Some people save your life without meaning to but sometimes loving them isn't enough to make them stay.