During that time, my life moved forward in a very simple rhythm.
In the morning, I went to class.
In the afternoon, I returned to the boarding house.
At night, sometimes I studied, sometimes I sat in the corridor talking with him.
Every day looked almost the same.
Yet somehow, I never felt bored.
Before I met him, my life had been rather closed off. I rarely went out, and I wasn't used to talking much with strangers. I always thought that studying well and living quietly was enough.
I never thought much about things people called feelings.
In fact, if someone had asked me about love back then, I wouldn't have known how to answer.
I didn't know what love was.
I only knew that being around him felt comfortable.
We didn't date.
There were no long trips together.
No sweet confessions.
Just ordinary things.
For example, one morning when I was running late for class, I rushed out of my room and saw him locking his bike.
He looked at me and said,
"Wait a second."
I stopped.
He went back into his room and came out with two steamed buns.
"I bought extra."
I knew he hadn't bought extra.
But I still took one.
Or some nights when I studied late, he would knock on my door.
"Still awake?"
I nodded.
He would place a cup of warm milk outside my door.
"Drink it, then go to sleep early."
That was all.
No long conversations.
No questions afterward.
But those small gestures repeated again and again, until I gradually became used to his quiet care.
I didn't even realize when it became such a natural part of my life.
One time while we were sitting together talking, he suddenly asked,
"Back in your hometown, do people start dating early?"
I thought for a moment.
"Yes."
"And you?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know…"
He looked at me, slightly surprised.
"Really?"
I nodded.
"Everyone talks about love a lot… but I don't really understand it. I think you must like someone very much before it's called love."
He fell silent for a moment.
His eyes were calm and thoughtful.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Maybe that's true."
I didn't know why he stayed quiet for so long afterward.
And I didn't think much about it.
At that time, I was still very simple.
I thought what existed between us was just friendship.
A very comfortable friendship.
I didn't realize that the way he cared for me sometimes wasn't the way ordinary friends cared.
For example, if I casually mentioned that I liked a certain dish, a few days later he would bring it back.
Or if I said I needed to buy a certain book, he would remember and ask again after a few days.
"Did you buy it yet?"
If I hadn't, he would say,
"I'll check the bookstore when I pass by."
He never did anything grand.
But he remembered every small detail.
Some nights we sat in the corridor talking until very late.
I would tell him stories about my classes.
He would tell me about his plans after graduation.
He wanted to continue studying.
To go farther.
To see a world bigger than this city.
When he spoke about those things, his eyes changed.
They became brighter.
I looked at him and simply thought he was a very hardworking person.
A man with clear goals.
I didn't know that sometimes when a man speaks about the future, there may already be someone quietly present in that future.
But back then, I truly didn't think that far.
I only thought he was a good person.
Someone who made me feel safe when I was near him.
One evening, after we had been talking for quite a while, I asked him,
"Do you think we'll still see each other in the future?"
He looked at me.
My question probably surprised him.
I explained,
"I mean… later everyone will go their own way. It might be hard to meet again."
He didn't answer immediately.
He looked down the small alley in front of us, where the pale yellow streetlight spread across the ground.
After a moment he said,
"Life is very long."
Then he turned to look at me.
"People who are important don't disappear that easily."
I simply nodded.
I didn't understand how deep those words really were.
Some sentences only reveal their meaning many years later.
At that time, I thought he was simply comforting me.
I didn't know that while I was still trying to understand my own feelings, he had already understood his long ago.
And perhaps he also knew that I was not ready to understand it yet.
⸻
Message of Chapter 6
Some people understand their love very clearly.
But others have not yet learned to recognize their own feelings.
Sometimes love does not arrive at the same time for two people.
One may understand earlier.
And the other may need to walk a very long road before realizing it.