prolog

one.
Hearts that haven't disappeared yet

The days when I only cleaned / Days when I thought it hurt less / Rainy days, indoors / Days when I covered my wounds with incense / Streets created by incense / People remembered by smell / Crying under a mask / Crying under water / Moments when comfort was not needed / Days when my body reacted first / Practice hugging myself / And then what remains / About the words 'How are you?'

two.
A moment that comes back to life sometimes

The fineness of a rainy day / I pushed the glass towards the light / As I became accustomed, the season departed / Names that only come to mind at night / While the water boils / Sometimes I can't stand myself either / About the words 'How are you?'

three.
I'm sick, I can't stand it anymore

Love ended up as a soliloquy / The cruelty of affection / Anniversaries outside the calendar / How to get through the day with an indifferent face / Forgetting is pretending not to know / Instead of saying it's over, I turned my back / Waiting is proof that the feeling isn't over / Waited for the me back then / Stayed still, and that was enough / The answers that disappeared / The distance my heart couldn't reach / I decided not to attend that story anymore / About the words 'How are you?'

four.
The pain that the body remembers first

My ears trembled before my eyes / My stiff shoulders knew first / My fingertips hunched / A familiarity that shouldn't be / A choice to hurt less / I wanted to be a good person until the end / My body knows first / About the words 'How are you?'

five.
A night that doesn't collapse even when shaken

Nights without crying / Things left behind instead of words / At the end of emotions / Until expectations cease / Patterns remain at the end of the heart / Sharing the weight / Nights I wanted to pretend not to know / The nights eventually passed / I thought I had become dull / An ordinary confession / Nights when I have to embrace myself / About the words 'How are you?'

six.
People who disappear, hearts left behind

The practice of letting go / How to look without holding on / A very slow separation / Reduced conversation and feelings / Keeping a quiet distance / Letting go / The heart knew first / A record of a day that was not strange / A road we could not walk side by side on / I no longer hold on / About the words 'How are you?'

seven.
It still hurts sometimes

When the heart dries / Practice to become harmless / Feelings that cannot be named / Practice to just let them pass / The heart that still lingers / As if nothing happened / Beyond the emotions / On the empty space, again / A day when nothing happened / About the words 'How are you?'

Epilogue

Sometimes I live today with a painful heart
Our story

For things that are not over, but are passing by

The first chapter of this book begins with a confession.
Saying, “It still hurts sometimes” is not an admission of defeat.
That is why this book is not a narrative of overcoming.
The attitude of taking emotions along without completing them permeates the entire book.
The author's sentences are closer to sentences of survival.


The attitude of protecting, refining, purifying, savoring, and contemplating emotions in life approaches readers cautiously.
The comfort this book offers is not the perhaps irresponsible words, “It’ll be okay,” but rather begins by sitting next to someone and whispering, “It still hurts sometimes.”


The moment you close the book, you will realize that the emotions that don't go away can ultimately become the strength that sustains you.
And you will realize through warm words that that strength does not grow from loud promises, but from the very small choices you make today.