You'll always be my HOME, my seven. π
Let's meet in this lifetime, okay? Maybe not now, but let's meet when the time is right π
i love you, my seven! ππ
#BTS13thAnniversary
I found the boys at a time when i needed them the most. although i havenβt been here since the beginning, i will walk alongside them on this flower road until the end π
#RM#JIN#SUGA#JHOPE#JIMIN#v#JUNGKOOK#BTS#BTSARMY
i cant even look at their pictures or listen to their voices. the idea of not having the opportunity to see and hear them in person hurts my heart so much. ily bangtan pero ang sakit sobra.
People often ask, "Bakit mo iniiyakan 'yan? Concert lang naman."
And honestly, I wish it were that simple.
We're not crying because we missed a random event.
We're crying because for years, we waited for this moment.
Some of us stayed up until dawn just to watch livestreams, hopping from one link to another because we couldn't afford the official online streaming pass. Kaya nagtitiis kami sa malabong streams, putol-putol na audio, at mga link na bigla na lang nawawala sa kalagitnaan ng concert. Some watched grainy fancams and told ourselves, "One day, ako naman." Some saved little by little from allowances and salaries, kahit pabarya-barya pa yan.
So when people see us crying over a ticket, they're only seeing the last five minutes of a story that took years to write.
They're seeing the tears, but not the years behind them.
They're seeing the disappointment, but not the waiting.
They're seeing a fan who didn't get a seat, but not the person who spent countless nights finding comfort in seven voices when life felt too heavy to carry alone.
What they're witnessing is only the ending of a chapter they were never there to read.
They weren't there when BTS became the soundtrack of our youth. They weren't there for the birthdays we celebrated with strangers who eventually became friends. For the comeback nights spent awake until dawn. For the voting, streaming, saving, waiting, hoping, and believing.
They weren't there for the years when seeing BTS in person felt impossible.
And they definitely weren't there this week.
They didn't see the fans who woke up before sunrise because they were too anxious to crave for sleep. The fans who spent hours staring at loading screens, refreshing pages, praying their internet would hold up. The fans who watched ticket after ticket disappear before their eyes. The fans who reached the front of the queue only to be told there was nothing left.
So when you see us crying, understand that we're not mourning a piece of paper or a QR code.
We're mourning the possibility of a moment we have imagined for years.
A moment where we'd finally hear the opening VCR and realize, "I'm here."
A moment where we'd see seven people who unknowingly walked with us through some of the hardest chapters of our lives.
A moment where we'd finally get to say thank youβeven if they never hear it.
That's why it hurts.
Because this was never just about a concert.
It was about a dream we've been carrying for so long that it became a part of us.