I looked in the corner of the screen. December 31. 

"I know if you were here right now you'd tell me I don't have to do this."

I bit my lip because it was true. 

"You'd hug me and beg me not to. You'd tell me not to lose faith."

My lip was starting to hurt.

"I can hear your voice right now. It's a little breathy, because you're trying to hold back tears. 'Please don't do this.'"

I had to stop biting my lip; it was about to start bleeding. 

"I'm not going to get any better."

I was in denial for six months. Did that make me a coward?

"I'm only going to get worse and I don't want you to have to see it."

Even in death, I was all he cared about. 

"It'll be better for both of us; believe me." He poured something clear into his coffee. 

He wouldn't want me to cry. 

The white mug was a stark contrast to his red lips, a little too loved by tongue and teeth. 

But never too loved by me. And never again. 

"Please don't cry. You're probably crying right now. Don't mourn for me too much, okay?" I watched his Adam's apple bob. 

The truth again. He knew me better than I know myself. 

"Make sure you take care of yourself; I can't look after you anymore."

You didn't deserve this pain. 

"Pabo, I bet you're... Crying. I told you not... To cry for me." His words lost their cadence. 

"I'll wait... For you."

No, stop. I don't deserve kindness from such a selfless person. 

"Don't forget me and... Be... Happy." His head fell back on his shoulders and he slumped into the chair. 

I turned off the camera. 

You've got it all wrong. The only thing I would tell you is that I loved and love you. 

Something slipped out of the camera case. 

"사랑함니다"