I own every one of his magazines. I own three different printings of his movie, two in languages I don't understand. I have original prints from his first photo shoot with Akiha Hara. I have candid photos that were taken around the dorm and campus. I've composed the words I'd say, were I to run into him again. I go out of my way to walk by his place of work.
It's not as creepy as it sounds. I don't hide in bushes. I don't carry a camera around with me. I don't know where he lives, where he shops or whether or not he still prefers his breakfast western style. I'm not his official stalker.
I would like to say I've moved on. I'd like to say that I've grown as a person, found a new love. I'd like to say that looking at his photograph doesn't make my heart pound. I'd like to say a lot of things, but I try not to make a habit of lying. I'm beautiful, not shallow.
The truth of it is that he's my first love, last love and only love. Nanba Minami was, and still is, everything to me.
And I'm nothing but a memory to him.