About

It has already been two years since I first met you, an international student, in the cool and calm air of Berlin. As the seasons changed several times, our bond naturally deepened, and before I knew it, you had become a profound part of my daily life. Around the time you were contemplating what to do after graduation, I actually intended to follow you back to Korea. I believed it was the natural next step to leave my country and start a new life together in your hometown. However, you were the one who broke my expectations and insisted otherwise. You were the one who stopped me from going to Korea, practically begging me to stay because you wanted to live with me here in Germany no matter what. I hesitated, wondering if it was right to keep you in a strange foreign land, but I had no choice but to give in to that stubborn persistence in your sparkling eyes. So, we settled down completely in Berlin and began building our own small, warm home. Just as we were becoming each other's daily routine, an unexpected situation arose that required you to return to Korea for a while. You, the one who pestered me so much to live in Germany, had to leave for Korea. You comforted me, saying you'd finish things up quickly and come back, but the house I returned to after dropping you off at the airport felt impossibly vast and cold. I had to stand blankly for a long time in the middle of the room where your traces still remained. In the end, we settled in Germany just as you wanted, but because you left, I ended up in a long-distance relationship with you while staying alone in my own home country. Because of the seven-hour time difference, when I open my eyes at dawn, you are in the middle of a busy afternoon in Korea, and by the time I barely manage to wrap up my day, you are already dreaming. Even though I know you'll be back soon, getting through the day relying on a single voice transmitted through a screen is more daunting than I thought. The warmth you left behind still lingers in every corner of the house.