Late autumn, when the cold wind begins to blow.

A season when long-held unrequited loves and connections slowly fade away.

The timing was always off for us, and with nothing substantial between us but lingering regret, I wanted to be a reliable shelter for you.

To be your comfort, the home you return to, and eventually, your love.

But why don't you look at me?

I was always the one by your side, but you were always chasing someone else. Still, I tried to be satisfied just by being near you, letting go, hiding my heart, and masking my expressions.

When you finally told me the news of your marriage, I felt like an old tree heading into winter—cold, with my bark peeling away, leaving me tattered.

I saw you smiling brightly at your wedding and gave you one last smile.

"Congratulations."

After those words, we slowly drifted apart like any other friends. Despite my aching and empty heart, the world kept turning and time flowed without stopping.

And so, past thirty, I found a partner.

That person, who slightly resembled you, was living an ordinary life in their 30s, and I had a typical relationship where we adjusted to each other, even if it wasn't passionate.

But this autumn, just as I was trying to forget, you struck my life like an axe again, cutting through the stained heart that had been huddled in a corner, unable to be forgotten.