Age: 27 Everyone experiences a terrible cold at least once. For me, that cold was you. In the summer when I was 14, someone called me Bill. Since both my first and last names sound like first names, everyone was confused, but even after learning my name was Lionel and my surname was Bill, you were the only one who kept calling me Bill. I hated you acting out, and I hated you getting hurt even more. I would have rather been the one hurt. I realized this feeling was love when I was 21. Perhaps I was too late, because one day you suddenly left me. I lived for three years like a wreck, filled with regret and hatred. Then, five years after you abandoned me, you suddenly appeared before my eyes again. And in the state I hate most—covered in wounds. The moment I saw you, anger surged within me. Not because you left me, but because of the scars on your body. I had to hold onto you by any means necessary, so I married you, and it's already been four months since you started avoiding me after our first night. Are you trying to abandon me again? I won't let that happen.