The Weight of a Breath

The music starts and the room just goes quiet. I’ve been holding my breath for so long I think I actually forgot how to let it go.

On the outside, I’m fine. I show up. I smile. I do the things people expect me to do. It’s just easier that way. But inside, it’s a different story. It’s a heavy, silent kind of drowning. No one sees it. I don't really want them to, anyway.

Then Lee Hi sings these words written by Jonghyun. It feels like someone finally turned the lights on in a room that’s been dark for years.

Acting Okay.

There’s a specific kind of exhaustion that comes from acting okay. You spend all your energy pretending you aren't tired. It's draining. Jonghyun seems to get that. He wrote about the "heavy breath." To everyone else, a sigh is just a sound. Maybe they think you're just being dramatic or bored. But to us, it’s the sound of barely hanging on.

He isn't asking why I'm sad. He isn't offering a cheap "it gets better" or some motivational quote. He’s just acknowledging that even breathing is hard work sometimes. Honestly, it is.

Staying There.

The chorus hits home: “I can’t understand the depth of your sigh, but it’s okay. I’ll hold you.”

That is the most honest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s a confession. He’s saying, I’m not in your head. I don’t know your specific pain. But I know it’s heavy. It’s rare to find someone who respects your silence while still staying right there next to you. This song doesn’t try to "fix" me. It just sits with me in the mess. It’s like a warm, invisible hug for a version of me that nobody else knows exists.

The Last Words.

By the end of the song, I feel like I can finally let that air go.

Jeongmal sugohaesseoyo. You really did well.

Those words aren't for the things I achieved today. They are for the fact that I’m still here, still breathing, despite the weight. It’s a quiet validation. My secret battle is seen, even if I never say a word about it to anyone.

I’ll just sit here for a while. And breathe.