I still remember riding the train with you from Seoul to Busan to meet your mom, and your friends all waiting at the train station to meet me. I remember running to catch the train because we’d almost missed it (we’d been standing at the wrong platform for 15 minutes), and the damp warmth of your hands; the way your hair fell over your face in an unruly heap. I still remember the view from the window as we left the city- the sky a mess of orange and red- and the weight of your head on my shoulder as the train pulled away. I’m sorry I left; it was the happiest I’ve ever been.