When I woke up, my name, my room, and the person beside me were all different.
It wasn't bad, I thought.

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At night, I was bathed in the light of the galaxy.
In the morning, I am a girl with sunflower-patterned cuffs.
The hand of hers I hold is surprisingly gentle and warm.

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A hand clutching the hem of a skirt.
A secret I still cannot let go of.
Yet, on a morning of autumn rain, warm arms whispered:
"I love you just the way you are."

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Two girls who fell in love.
Neither knew the other harbored the same secret—until they opened an old album.

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