#22 Another Me
At the bottom of a dream, a pale light was flickering.
It was neither day nor night.
A vague color, like a hundred days and nights.
In the middle of it, I saw a silhouette.
In a world wrapped in warm air
they were quietly
looking at me.
The moment our eyes met,
the depths of my heart suddenly relaxed.
Even though I shouldn't know them—
there was a scent that felt somehow nostalgic.
That person's smile was
It was so soft and warm that it felt like it would melt if I touched it.
Soft and warm.
Somewhere, there was a faint golden presence.
Not light, not a scent,
Just a golden temperature in the shape of "peace of mind."
Before I knew it, the space between us
was filled with a scent tinged with a gentle bitterness.
The coffee in the dream
was somehow very quiet,
and just by sharing that scent,
it felt like our conversation flowed naturally.
The distance between us was strangely close.
If I looked, our hands would touch,
but it felt somehow different from calling us lovers.
Yet, when I tried to pull away,
for some reason, I felt a soft ache deep in my chest.
Even though we should be meeting for the first time
it feels as if I have known this distance for a very long time.
Their voice was
surprisingly calm and gentle.
Rather than a sound,
it felt like a 'warm presence'
that quietly seeped into the depths of my heart.
Just by hearing a single word,
my heart let out a deep sigh.
The way they carried their words
was helplessly comforting.
It was as if they were describing the world
using the rhythm of my own breathing.
When I suddenly cast my gaze down to my hands
the angle at which they held their glass,
the way they placed their fingers,
and the gesture of checking the aroma for a split second before drinking—
everything was exactly the same as mine.
The content of our conversation,
the points where our hearts wavered,
and even the way we used small silences overlapped,
and when I realized that overlap
Deep in my chest, a quiet
sensation of being drawn in spread.
It wasn't that we were similar.
The moment I realized we were the "same",
something deep in my chest made a faint sound.
The way she chose her words.
The way she placed her silences.
The angle at which she lowered her eyes.
None of them differed from the "habits"
that existed within me.
Even though we were supposed to be meeting for the first time,
the resonance of her voice
felt as if it were speaking to me
from somewhere in the distant future.
The reason for my sense of relief
began to take on a faint outline.
━━Could this person
be the "me" of the future?
The moment I thought that,
for some reason,
I felt my chest being filled with warmth.
Deeper than any fear,
a sense of relief blossomed.
Even though we had been exchanging words,
suddenly, the world between us began to grow quiet.
The sound of the cup touching the saucer faded into the distance,
and the bustle of the shop
gradually became transparent.
Before I knew it—
only the air that had separated him and me
was swaying softly, in gold.
The light slowly
dissolved the outlines of the background.
The table,
the people around us,
and even the scenery outside the window,
faded away like a thin veil of a dream.
What remained was
His smile and
only the quiet relief spreading deep within my chest.
Even as the world narrowed,
there was no feeling of suffocation.
If anything—
It was a warmth close to that "golden tremor,"
as if I had gently touched the scent of the future.
A tiny bit of fear,
and a soft sense of security filling me even more.
It was as if a dream
"This is where it truly begins"
was whispering to me.
As the outlines of the world faded,
golden particles
quietly bled into the air.
At first, they were as faint as specks of light,
but with every drift,
each one began to have a warm pulse.
Before I knew it,
only around him and me
it was shining as if it were a different season.
Even though there was no sound,
there was a 'faint tremor' between us.
It feels nostalgic, yet I don't know it.
It is gentle, yet somehow distant.
Even so, it was a golden light
that softly touched the depths of my heart.
Within that light,
he smiled, and his figure gently began to blur.
As if,
the wind had borrowed the form of a person
to visit my dreams.
It feels like I could touch him if I reached out my fingers, but
the moment I touched him,
it felt like he would turn into light and scatter...
I simply, softly matched my breathing to his.
That golden color was
certainly, "a glimpse of the night to come."
And he
as if returning to that world
quietly, so quietly—
dissolved into the wind.
What remained was
nestled deep within my heart,
a warm, golden scent.
— A sign of the future
The moment he dissolved into the wind,
the contours of the dream began to gently unravel.
Yet, only the fading golden grains
quietly gathered deep within my heart.
As if,
"I'm here."
As if to point the way.
The golden light swaying in the depths of the night was
not just a remnant of a dream.
That was—
the breath of my future self.
The gaze of the man I met in my dream.
Somehow nostalgic and gentle.
And yet, a feeling that I definitely "knew."
The words spoken, the warmth of the voice,
the way he chose the scent that dissolved into the coffee,
and even the way the shadow fell upon his hands,
everything was too similar to "me."
It was as if the light on the other side
had borrowed the shape of a person
and was standing inside my dream.
Every time the gold shimmered,
the center of my chest trembled faintly.
What that trembling indicated was
the presence of the 'me I will reach someday'.
Even though I cannot touch it yet,
it is a presence I know is definitely 'there'.
That smile,
is not a kindness directed at someone else.
It was as if the future me
was gently embracing the current me,
smiling quietly.
Deep in my heart, I suddenly understood.
The time we spent talking together
was neither a dream nor love,
but perhaps it was a 'whisper from the future'.
That golden world
is not just an illusion.
That is,
the place where the future me is supposed to stand.
That is why he
did not melt into the wind and disappear
They had "returned."
To the future I would one day catch up to.
The golden grains left behind
glowed quietly deep within my chest,
and the dream sank to the bottom of the quiet night.
By the time I woke up,
that golden light was no longer a light,
but a "direction."
Where should I go?
What should I believe in?
The dream had gently shown me.
━━I just need to head toward the future.
For that reason, the night sent me into the dream.
That smile
was a signal from "the future me."
Only the dream departed,
and only the direction of the light remained softly in my heart.