My fingers grazed over the soft leather binding of the book in my hand. How many times I’d read it, I lost count long ago. But it was this book that kept me strong though the years, the things written inside it, the knowledge it held. The tears drops that stained the writing every few pages. This book was as much a part of me as my flesh and blood.

   I remember the first time I saw it, my eyes were watery and I couldn’t breathe. The large leather journal was placed before me and I was told that it was a gift . . . a final apology. I didn’t understand his reasons then, the only thing I knew is that there was a pain greater than anything I’d ever imagined and it was consuming me.

   It was then, that I picked up the book, opened it and felt my chest swell at the familiar handwriting as the smell of him fell off the pages and I flipped to the very front of the book. I ran my finger across the title page, written in the elegant writing. ‘Love, Love, Love’ a story of three lovers, by Kim MinJun.