Many times I dream about Han Sheng, whom I loved when I was nine years old, falling from the thirty-second floor.
My brother Sang Kui, who has been blurred in my memory for a long time, has always truly existed in my life like the ashes that cannot be grasped by mist.
Sometimes we can be tragically willful for the things we love.
But Hansang always refused to tell me the truth.
We are playing a game, testing each other's patience with time and injury.
——He hovers at the interface between the story he constructed and reality. It's like having a weird dream.
When I woke up, the dream disappeared.
Postscript:
When I was 16 years old, the only boy I loved deeply left my life forever... From then on, I turned my grief into words, and this is the first one I wrote for him.
Whether it is beauty or romance, it is a reflection of my deep sadness.
Reading it again now, the youthfulness and naivety of the past are also proof of love.
I hope you can also understand the youth that was on the verge of ending when I was 16 years old.
~Fin~
Intention: