It's that time of the day again, walking the top student back to her home after a long day of calculating how many joules were used by an elevator to lift ten people inside and how the Jeon Dynasty became the last dynastic kingdom in Korea. I always wonder why everyone seems happy to go home while enjoying the orange scenery when the sun starts to set. I've grown to despise the sunset during my whole highschool years, especially after meeting her.
I have always hated the sunset. It always happens to be the time of the day when I have to part ways from her. She is a ray of sunshine in my life, and every time I have to say goodbye to her, it feels like a piece of my heart is being ripped apart. Every evening, we watch the sky turn darker, while taking small steps, stalling the time so that we can spend more time together. I would stare at the sun sinking below the horizon, dreading the moment when it will disappear completely. And when it's finally gone to reach another continent, I say goodbye to her.
But she has always seen the sunset in a different light. To her, sunset is a moment of beauty and wonder, a reminder that every ending brings a new beginning. Right in front of her house, she would hold my hand and whisper words of love and encouragement, reminding me that what we have is strong enough to endure any distance. And there she goes, bidding her goodbye while saying, "walk me home again tomorrow."