Dear Myungsoo,

Winter was never this early. I mean autumn didn’t even get a chance to finish up.

I’m finished though, I mean my work. Research period is over; I’m putting the finishing touches. I’m not sure how long the thesis paper will end up as, but length doesn’t matter, right? As long as it ends, the thesis ends, the pages end, it’ll be fine.

Speaking of length, I found an unfinished muffler in the cupboard today with the woolen threads hanging off from the edges. It was black - like the night, like your eyes - and I immediately knew it was yours. Black’s your lucky color, and mine too. But that doesn’t matter; the thing is, I have a shrewd guess that you were knitting it for me. I found the needles and extra thread. After all it was going to be our anniversary soon. That would have been my present right? But I’m sorry to say that you weren’t doing a good job. It’s not even a hand long, I guess some of the wool unraveled by itself, or Pop might have contributed to that. But then again, I don’t have to judge the length to estimate your love for me.

Well Myungsoo, if length doesn’t matter, then does it matter that autumn ended quickly this time? Or that our time together was short? Was it short? I don’t know, some would say it was long, some would say it was short - it depends on how you see it really. But it didn’t last a lifetime and I wanted you for a lifetime.

PS: You’re fine right? You’re alright…

With love,

Sungjong