「 The Lake That Wasn’t a Sea 」

She said she loved the sea.

“Why?” I asked softly, though it wasn’t an unusual preference.

“The sea is wonderful. It stretches farther than the eye can see. At night, you fall asleep to the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, with the ocean breeze brushing your skin…” She went on and on, describing things perhaps everyone had heard countless times.

“What about lakes? Or rivers? What’s the difference, really, when they’re all just large bodies of water?” I asked. “You don’t get it. I wish my life could be like the sea—being confined to a river or a lake sounds too sad,” she replied. I smiled faintly, not knowing what to say.

There was a lake right near my home. We often sat on a bench by its edge, gazing at the view, sharing ice creams we’d just bought, occasionally talking. I wished we could stay like that forever, even though it wasn’t the sea she longed for.

“Does this breeze… feel a bit like the sea?” I asked.

“How would I know?” she said quietly. “I’ve never been to the sea.”

Lately, she came to the lake less and less.

I asked her what was wrong. “Just busy lately, planning some things. Don’t overthink it. Life just feels… a little bland,” she answered.

“Are you leaving?”

No answer.

I grew restless. The word “bland” lingered heavily in my heart. I wondered what she meant—was it this city? School? Or…

That was the last time I saw her by the lake. As usual, I bought two ice creams. We sat in silence. I looked at her profile and wondered why I had never truly gazed at her face before. She stared at the lake, just like always, yet this time, everything felt painfully fleeting.

“Goodbye. Keep in touch,” she said, and left.

“Hey—” I called out.

“Hmm?” She turned, eyebrows raised.

I paused. “Nothing… I wish you well,” I murmured.

Now I sit on the bench by the lake, holding two melting ice creams, talking to myself as if she were still here.

“How have you been lately?”

“Not too bad.”

“If you were here, you’d scold me for not wearing enough.”

“…”

“I miss you.”

“Yeah.”

I finish one ice cream; the other has melted. I start walking around the lake. A strong gust of wind blows, and I try to imagine what the sea must be like—bluer water, fiercer winds, perhaps. My head droops at the thought. Maybe she has found her sea.

I’ve never seen the ocean in my life.

…

Neither a lake.