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Children who are beginning their youth.Their growing pain on their way to spring....
I don’t know what to say. It was lovely, so lovely, but I can’t bring myself to read the second part. I’m in Haemin’s exact position. I really tried to get my art acknowledged and all my parents did was tore it up. Tore up the sketches I made of them. And then I think about how I still carry that hurt in me and that Haemin killed himself over the pressure. I’m very sensitive right now. I don’t even know who to cry to because I’ve never told the extent of my depression.