Remember that morning you appeared at my doorstep with your new bicycle, Hyunwoo? I think that was when it started. Your smile was so wide, I almost felt like my insides were being embraced by a big, soft blanket. Ever since then, I'd been tangled in that blanket. The warmth you brought kept growing, Hyunwoo. In the winter, your presence beat the appeal of hot chocolate in a heated room. You remember that too, don't you? That night you suggested we go camping like they do on variety shows. The temperature dropped to the negatives that night. And that was how we held hands for the first time. 'For survival', I insisted, because I knew you didn't feel the way I did. Still, I let you fill my winter with a million unforgettable memories. But spring came and those memories melted with the snow.

We didn't meet each other for a long time because I was busy with school, and you with a new playmate. I knew, because your mother came over one rainy afternoon, asking my mother for some fresh ideas for a birthday party. "He's got no idea how to make a girl feel special," she said, in which I kept quiet about. I offered her the roll of wrapping paper you got me two christmases ago, and she gladly brought them home. You gave them to me with my actual present because you were too lazy to wrap them. I wondered if you thought of me when you saw them, Hyunwoo, and if that triggered you to actually put in the effort to try wrapping hers this time. I still didn't hear from you, and that was how I knew you probably didn't. 

It was near the end of summer when I got a call from you. The leaves were turning orangey, the color you hated. I remember you having to repeat your name twice before I finally caught it, which was funny because we used to recognize each other through the phone even before we said 'hello'. You asked if I wanted to go cycling, and I reminded you of how my bicycle got lost in the lake the last time we went cycling, which was an awfully long time ago. Bringing up that incident make me forget that we hadn't spoken for almost a year. You must have felt that too, because you dropped your formalities and started nagging with the exact same phrases you used whenever I lost or broke my things.

"If I gave you two candies and you held one in each palm you'd lose one and crush the other. Seriously…"

The frustration in your voice, you losing your cool, us speaking as if we never drifted apart – it all lit a spark deep inside of me. It was like last winter again, when the warmth bubbling inside me took away all the lethargy and sick the cold brought.  Except it was summer now, and I wasn't really keen on feeling all the things you made me feel. Not after you'd forgotten about me for so long. So I kept quiet as you raised suggestions to make our cycling date plausible. 

Can you remember what happened afterwards, Hyunwoo? Because I sure can.You hung up. Your string of words was punctuated with a short but thorough sigh, and then a click, and a long beep. You never liked it when you got excited on your own, and that was exactly what I let happen. That was why you ended the call. I didn't call back, and neither did you. It was then that I realized that we were both growing up, and that the friendship we once swore never to let go of had gone cold. I wanted to blame you for it, but then I remembered that I carelessly sat back and let it happen. Even till today, I wonder why I did that. 

And then when Autumn had slowly and surely covered all of the city we lived in, when I was getting used to not taking a double take at the dried leaves outside your doorstep as I passed everyday, I received a knock on my door. And it was you, dressed in your favorite denim shirt that you wore only on special days like that one spring day we went to the aquarium with both our families. 

"Where's your mom?" you asked as soon as you lifted your head to see me peeking out, holding the door only half open as if you were a strange salesman. I told you she was out at my grandma's place, like all other Saturdays – something you already knew. You nodded thoughtfully, and I knew you didn't actually have to ask, you just didn't know what to say. But I asked anyway, if you were looking for her. 

"My mom wanted to borrow some salt, that's all." you dismissed quickly, your hand reaching up to rub the back of your neck. It was a habit of yours whenever you told a lie. And I would have pressed further for the reason of your visit, but I simply didn't feel like it. So I briskly headed in and grabbed the container of salt for you. You took it without a word, and I shut the door. I found the container of salt by my doorstep a few hours later, when I was leaving the house to meet my friends for dinner. I scoffed at how stupid you were, for not being able to knock on my door again.

Eventually, winter came again. A whole year had passed since we spent time together. I wondered what plans you had this year, since you were always full of ideas when white covered the streets. I had been quick to push aside all thoughts of you the past year but the cold drained me of will, and I let the faint sounds of our laughter resound in my mind as I laid in bed one night. That was the night I decided to let your sense of adventure infect me and sneaked out of the house near dawn. The streets were dead quiet, there was nowhere I knew to go. So I ended up sitting on my porch, looking out at your front door. 

My heart skipped a beat when I saw a light flicker on in your living room. Your front door swung open and you stepped out with the same camping bag we lugged about last year. I wondered if you spotted me sitting as frozen as a statue. You locked your front door and skipped down your porch. For some reason I shut my eyes tight and wished you disappeared. I didn't want you to see me and be forced to say hi. I thought I was imagining things when I heard your scrunchy footsteps get closer and closer and stop right before me. But I wasn't, because your shaky voice broke the dead silence of the night. 

"Let's go camping." 

I stared blankly at you.

"Hurry, pack your bags. I'll wait." you said. 

I lifted myself off the cold cement steps and headed inside.