While tidying my bookshelf today, my fingers brushed against that fairy tale book we used to doodle in as kids. On the cover was a crooked castle and a glowing star — back then I always said that when I grew up, I'd become someone brighter than a star. Now I really do have that kind of light, but I can no longer find that simple version of myself who would have clapped for it. I put it back in its place, like gently tucking those unreachable days back into a corner of my memory. Outside the window, someone hurried past with an umbrella, raindrops blurring their silhouette against the glass. Some paths, once taken, are destined to be walked alone. But I'll still remember that in another world, I once gave everything I had to protect something.