In the twenty-third year of my life, I stood at the harbor that I had been to countless times, trying to look at everything that was isolated by the sky. The wind that I couldn't distinguish left the only chill of early spring around me. I felt the air freeze, and the unforgettable image suddenly became evident.
You once asked me what was special about this harbor. At that time, I didn't answer. I just passed it off as a joke.
You chuckled and looked at me, and I joked: "What? A joke that's colder than a cold joke happens to be your point of laughter?"
You lowered your head, and I saw the street lights that suddenly turned on appeared in your eyes. I was slightly startled, and I saw you shaking your head gently. Everything was said without saying a word. You said in a gentle tone: "My smile is not that low."
Concept: Separation seems to be synonymous with life