The wind blew in my face as I walked towards the mailbox, and I clung to my orange and purple scarf. My bright red hair flutters behind me like a comet falling from the sky. The small postcard was safely kept from the wind in my right pocket. I knew that Park would be happy, maybe even elated, for he was constantly writing me letters and asking me to reply. Sometimes, I wished he would just move on, because every time his letter shows up on my doorstep, a wave of depression washes over me. Just thinking about it made the tears form. When I reached the mailbox, took the letter out of my pocket, raised the flag, and walked off with a smile on my face. As I thought about the words in the letter, my smile grew wider.
"I love you."