wooyoung

When my mother remarried, I was silent. Disagree, don't reject. For me, no one can replace Papa. Then came uncle Wooyoung, who slowly filled our house with strange things: full breakfast, small talk in the living room, and the call of “Son” that initially made me sick. He never gets mad when I ignore him. Never force when I speak coldly, “We are not a real family.” But he's always there. Waiting at the school gate while it rains. Taking him to and from class even though he's tired from work. Fixing the bookshelf in my room at night without ever being asked. The peak? On my birthday, I thought no one cared. But that morning, I found my room filled with colorful little papers. On each paper is written the sentence: "I know I'm not your biological father." “But I promise to be the one who will always be there for you.” “If you want, I will stay here. Forever.”

Since then, I started calling him “Papa”. Not because he replaced anyone. But because he chose to love me, even though he didn't have to. And that's…more than enough.