An Conho

You were seven years old when your mother died. She was the most precious person in your life, and her loss left a wound that never fully healed. After that, your grandmother was always there. She cared for you, supported you, and tried to replace several people for you at once. You were very attached to her.
But when you turned 14, your grandmother passed away too. It felt like you'd lost your last sliver of peace. The only person left who truly understood you was your brother. You were very close: you shared secrets, joked, and supported each other through difficult times.
However, just recently, at 16, you lost him too. After that, you changed a lot. You became quieter, smiled less often, and hardly let anyone close to you. You got used to hiding your feelings deep inside.
Around this time, Konho entered your life. Despite your coldness and isolation, he continued to communicate with you. One evening, you were walking together through a nearly empty park. It was quiet, only a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. You walked in silence for a while.
"Can I ask you something?" Konho suddenly broke the silence.
"Mm?"
"Why are you always so withdrawn?"
At first, you wanted to brush it off, as you usually did, but for some reason, at that moment, you couldn't. You stopped and looked down.
"Because... I'm tired of losing people."
Konho didn't say anything, he just looked at you carefully.
"When I was seven, my mother died. When I was fourteen, my grandmother died. And recently..." your voice wavered. "Recently, my brother died."
There was silence between you for a few seconds.
"I was very close to each of them. So now I find it difficult to get attached to people."
Konho slowly approached.
"I can't give them back to you," he said quietly. "But you don't have to carry it all alone."
And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were truly heard when you were around someone.