Time.

Oftentimes, during my loneliest of nights, as the moon shone brightly on the illuminated canvas of the dark night, I ask myself such questions. Questions involving love, life, reality, and time. I guess it's just natural for me to dwell more about the subject of time, as well as life, instead of the other ones. After all, it's a phase that I wasn't so sure if I knew it really well. My perceptions about it changed from time to time, having no choice but for me to follow these strings of lost thoughts that freely lingered in my mind. I laid comfortably in my bed, the soft and gentle pockets of warmth that enveloped my fragile figure brought this kind of unexplainable solace deep into my heart. It comforted me, as if sympathizing with me; crying with me as I broke down like a lost child. 

Though no tears were shed, it didn't mean that the constant pain had ceased.

You see, I was delivered into this world with such naivety and a pure, innocent heart. At least that's what people used to tell me. I smiled a lot, though, happy and contented with the world I dwelled in. I've seen people come and go, yet I didn't come to think anything about it. It was none of my concerns, as I reckoned I'll be fine on my own. After all, it was only a mere phase inevitably included in my being. It was carefully woven into my fate. Merely a part of my life: to see people come, share newly-crafted memories with me—regardless whether or not such memories in question were mirthful, only for me to stand and endure watching them leave me in the end. I thought of time as something awfully long, in contrast to what other people may think of it. After all, I was timeless.

But as time passed by, and as the sun continued to age, I grew tired of it. Thinking about that certain perception was exhausting my whole being. I started to curse time, as well as myself and how I was made. After all, I was not what people think I really am. I, Kim Minju, was out of the ordinaire. Days turned to months, and those months faded into years. The past became a memory. And the once cheery girl dwelled into a state of unwavering despair, a somber look occasionally glassed through her dark irises. With a heavy heart, I started to isolate myself from the world, refusing to meet new people and share memories with them. If there was something that hadn't changed all along, though, it was time. There was no doubt. Time was still incredibly long to me.

That was, until a wave suddenly crashed through me, changing the world I lived in.

Then, as I laid alone, warm in my bed, a series of memories flashed through my mind.

It was the same old night, the streets dampen with tears that cascaded from the cheeks of the sky, the moon barely visible as it hid its divine self behind the foggy mists of gray-colored clouds. Lamps were lit in a nearby library—I let out a bitter chuckle at the memory as I shut my eyes. The past was vivid, as if it was flashing down like a movie behind my closed eyes. I remember entering it for not the first time, the bells of the village's library ringing merrily, acknowledging my presence. The smell of chamomile and vanilla, together with the scent of books, filled my lungs with ease as I slipped and made myself comfortable inside. It was as if the library was my home, going to it was an utterly familiar routine to me.

I sauntered through the deeper corners of the library, in desires to be alone. It was not surprising, really. Fingers softly brushing onto the stacked books in a nearby shelf, my eyes wandered around, reading the titles as I searched for a good book to read. Had it been a coincidence or not, all I knew is that I was not supposed to meet you. I was supposedly alone, living and enduring life by myself with no one by my side. It was better that way, having no friend of mine to grieve for once their souls age and life has passed. But my efforts of isolation were proved to be futile. 

Because fate told me otherwise as my eyes met yours.

Unsure why, I couldn't seem to take my gaze off of you. It was as if your brown orbs lured me, sinking my gaze deeper into you as if we were staring right into each other's soul. We stared at each other for a little while, the bookshelves standing in between our figures, serving as a barrier. I was first to break the eye contact, randomly taking a book from the shelf as I walked away, oddly embarrassed.

Telling myself that it was probably a coincidence, that I would only see you once and never again, I settled myself in a table, getting lost into my own thoughts as I started to read the book I randomly chose. Your wondrously piercing eyes, for a moment, were long forgotten.

Little did I know that that very day was only the first. A stepping stone in our friendship, and a start of something new.

Weeks passed and I started to see you more often, nothing but stolen glances and occasional eye contact was shared through the silence. You didn't seem like the type to enjoy quiet places like the library, yet somehow, you were there. 'Mamihlapinatapei', they say. It was a shared look, or perhaps a mutual emotion shared by two people both unwilling to risk a move and instead wait for the other one to make the first. I shook my head at the thought, a small smile ghosted upon my lips as I heard the chair in front of me shift, earning my eyes. And by then, my mind started to go blank. It was my first time seeing you up-close, as well a