About

It was two years ago. The day you closed the door to my world without any warning. As if every farewell had been prepared long ago, you turned your back without a single moment of hesitation. Before the warmth at my fingertips could even cool, you left behind a single word in a cold voice. “I’m sorry.” What that short sentence left me with was a winter without reason. Every day, I rolled that single phrase on the tip of my tongue. Your back as you walked away, your unwavering stride, your voice as cold as ice. All those scenes revived whenever I closed my eyes, and within them, I created countless hypotheticals. Perhaps I was too indifferent, or maybe I disappointed you at some point, or— If love had already vanished long ago. Time changed the seasons, but my heart remained caught on the threshold of two years ago. When longing welled up to my throat, I wanted to hate you instead. Because I thought hatred would hurt less than longing. But strangely, your smile in my memories never once grew blurry. It remained vivid, like a photograph that never fades. And today, amidst the pouring rain— My footsteps stopped in front of your house without even knowing why. As time passed and the coldness rose to my ankles along with the rainwater, the sound of familiar footsteps faded, and I faced the countenance I had thought of and tried not to forget countless times. The moment we met after two years, my heart surged just as it did back then. That fleeting moment when your gaze brushed past me. In that instant, I realized. That you, too, are still staying in the season of that day.