meet

In the crowded subway, he saw her walking towards him. She wore a pale white embroidered cotton blouse and a smoky purple skirt. Although her long hair, which had flowed like silk seven years ago, now had a more alluring, seaweed-like curve, he felt her face was unchanged. The train doors slowly opened, and she stepped in, seeing him.
Her slightly surprised smile had a cool, almost minty quality, making him question the reality of time.
He remembered first seeing her in a freshman class. As soon as he entered the noisy classroom, he saw the girl sitting calmly in the last corner, gazing out the window, her features clear and bright.
He didn't know that a gentle fall had already occurred to him.
After that, he could easily find her—on the tree-lined paths of the school at dusk, among the tall, old bookshelves of the library, by the window of a southern-style snack stall in the cafeteria.
Countless times, he shyly and eagerly anticipated a beginning, but for some reason, she never noticed him. Just like when, in the library, she suddenly approached him and asked for a book on the top shelf, he suddenly lost all words. Afterwards, he constantly blamed himself for forgetting to ask her if she wanted the book back in his panic. Gradually, he grew accustomed
to those unfulfilled, hopeless waits.
Upon graduating from university, he heard she had gone south.
She looked up at him with a smile and said, "That's great. You're going to the final stop, and I'll get off one stop before you. See, we can still talk for a long time."
But he felt it was too short. In the blink of an eye, the same clear smile was gone, but she was already on the other side of the train window. She insisted on waiting there, watching the train take him away.
The subway was empty late at night. He sat alone in the swaying, returning carriage, wondering why he had moved his destination, only one stop away, to the final stop. And what he didn't know was more than that.
He didn't know that the girl with the clear, bright eyes had gazed at him for so long, watching him appear in the window.
He didn't know how her gaze had blossomed like a flower in every moment they spent together, before he even noticed.
He didn't know how much courage she had mustered, or what sweet anticipation she had felt when she asked him for that book; nor did he know how much disappointment and sadness his abandonment had brought her.
Just as he didn't know that right now, on the subway, she was repeating his game of incomprehension.

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