Yuyu Sangjong

Synopsis

“Hi. You’re Doha, right? Yoo Doha.”

When I was being shunned for liking men, you were the one who came to me with that greeting.

“I remembered your name because it’s so pretty.”

It was the first compliment I’d ever heard about the name I’d always despised. Since then, I wished that the words defining you could be things like: your voice, your scent, the neatness of your uniform… The pale fingers that turned book pages, the way your eyes folded into a picture when you smiled, the softness in your tone, or maybe that midsummer day, when you asked nothing and simply held me close.