Mentioned by Full Name

There is a song—

it feels as if it’s telling the story of you and me.

I hope this day will never come.

I would trade everything to make sure it never does.

I never want a day when you mention me

by my full name.

I truly don’t know what happened to me.

There were many times I wondered if I was sick.

I kept observing myself.

I once believed that as long as I stayed among people,

I could prove that I was right—

that I was just sick.

But in the end,

it turned out I was wrong.

With every heartbeat, I see your face.

With every breath, as long as I think of you being well, I smile.

Every time I replay our conversations—

the unhappy ones, the happy ones—

I feel grateful that you exist in this world.

Grateful to your parents for bringing you into it,

and that years later, I met you.

“Alix, you’ll meet someone who makes your heart move again.”

A friend said that to me five years ago.

Back then, I had already buried that sentence.

I hid my emotions in a place even I could no longer find—

no address, no trace.

That place existed inside

“the intelligence agency’s contract.”

Yes, that place truly existed.

Which meant that at that time,

I was no longer myself.

Everything that came after belonged to that unit.

At a moment when my consciousness was clearest,

an inner voice told me:

“Alix, you’re going to have something with this person.”

I remember that voice vividly.

It was November.

I had already sold my car and my furniture,

stopped accepting any interviews,

because I no longer had the heart to stay in France.

At that time, I was taking my dogs to the veterinary hospital

to handle export documents for entering Japan.

My heart was already dead to France.

Three years of relentless effort, hitting walls over and over,

yet still no future in sight—

a life that went against everything I believed in.

So when that sentence appeared in my chest,

I said to myself:

“No way.

I’m not close to her at all.

We’ve only spoken a few times.

I have a good impression of her,

but I don’t even know her.

And I’m about to leave France.”

I didn’t even feel I could describe this as “feelings.”

But my intuition had never been so clear.

Then everything shifted—

a full 720-degree turn.

I got the job offer.

The work visa was approved.

All of it happened on 2 Dec.

Just before I was about to leave—

fly to London to change my status,

visit friends,

then return to France

to wait out the six-month quarantine period

for my dogs’ entry into Japan.

I will always remember that day.

That night, I was out with friends and clients.

Suddenly, I became intensely restless.

And then—

your face appeared in my mind, impossible to shake.

That entire evening,

I couldn’t hear a single word the clients were saying.

It was as if I were hypnotized—

my mind filled only with you.

When I got home after midnight,

I felt deeply disappointed

because I hadn’t seen any of your activity that day.

I didn’t understand my own reaction at all.

It felt like I was living inside a body,

watching another person.

But my heart couldn’t lie.

Everything was beyond my control.

Over the next few days,

your face crashed into me like a tsunami—

strong, violent,

devouring my everyday life.

Of course I knew what I was facing.

The internet. Online connections.

This went completely against my life philosophy.

I never believed in “online people,”

and even less that one day

I would fall for someone online.

Yet this happened,

when I was completely unguarded.

During this time,

you taught me many things.

I learned a lot from you,

even if you don’t believe it.

I grew up believing life was only black or white,

with no gray area.

To me,

gray had always been a negative word.

Our time may not be long.

Maybe there is no “us.”

But within the understanding and gray space you gave me,

you observed me, cared for me,

and placed me in your heart.

Something long sealed within me

was melted by you.

I no longer want to chase

the title I once longed for.

Instead, I want—

with everything I have—

to keep you in my life,

for the rest of it,

if that’s possible.

After meeting you,

life suddenly feels very short.

As if I can see my own countdown.

I want to give you many things.

Maybe it sounds cliché,

but I never imagined

that one day I would want

to give someone my entire world.

At the very least,

I want to leave something for you.

Not necessarily material.

But I hope that when you think of these things,

you’ll think of me.

Maybe I’m not exactly who you imagine me to be,

because even I’m not entirely sure who I am.

But I cherish the time

we’ve shared.

Wherever I go,

I feel you faintly beside me.

On the road,

I smile to myself when I think of you.

Thinking about what we said yesterday,

how it was so funny.

Thinking about how I should answer

if you ask me the same question again.

You already exist—

silently—

in my life.

I remember something you once said to me:

“You like the idea of me.”

But that’s not it.

I didn’t fall for you because of the idea of you.

I fell for you with no idea of you.

There’s a scene in my mind.

A bright, sunlit afternoon.

The air is warm, golden.

We’re walking along a crowded avenue.

Among all those people,

I only see you.

Even now,

I can still see that image clearly.

I don’t know your real name.

I don’t know what kind of person you are.

Maybe you wouldn’t even want to talk to me.

I don’t know your height,

your measurements—

I know nothing.

I only remember one thing:

after I saw your project,

I knew—

something was about to happen.

I had no time to react.

If I did,

I think all I would have done

was suppress my feelings for you.

For two or three days,

the intensity was so overwhelming

that all I wanted was to leave France immediately.

It was too strange.

I even took out

the anti-anxiety medication I had long stopped using.

But even then,

you kept appearing in my mind.

If there really is such a thing as the idea of you,

then I can tell you this:

aside from your appearance,

I have no idea of you at all.

You once asked me

what I like about you.

My answer was:

“the strength that radiates from within you.”

You may not believe it.

But that day,

sitting in front of my computer,

after watching your project,

all I felt was—

your inner strength was immense.

I saw your purity.

You are brave,

but your heart is also very tired.

You are repairing yourself.

Your strength exhausts you,

yet it also shapes you.

I could feel

that you doubted yourself for a long time.

But you kept struggling, resisting,

and moving forward.

And now,

it seems you’ve found

a way to coexist with yourself.

Before all this,

we had only talked three times.

There were many moments

when I deliberately tried to avoid you.

Because I was truly afraid

that what I felt for you—

was real.

But somehow,

the more I avoided you,

the more easily you appeared before me.

Every single time.

Where did the courage come from

to be honest with you?

Even I find it unbelievable.

But at that moment,

I felt I had already lost so much,

that there was hardly anything left

I couldn’t lose.