"When the time comes, and I'm down to my last seven minutes — the seven minutes that let you relive all of your best memories, I already know what they'll be. The first time that we met, the way you barged into my bedroom instead of the bathroom, and how you scrambled to find an apology. The first time that you decided to spend time with me instead of everyone you were actually there to see, and how you didn't give me a choice. You laid down on my bed like it was yours and talked to me while I finished my homework, and the conversation flowed as if we were picking up where we left off in a previous lifetime. I'll remember all the times we went out, pretending to be on dates. I'll remember the way you grabbed my hand and ran towards anything that looked like fun, and how you would forget to let go. There will be at least a thousand memories flashing one by one of your smile, because nothing could ever be more important to me than seeing it again. Your laugh will ring in my ears for the final time, and I'll pass away in the comfort of loving you as I always have.
If there is no eternity after this; if this is really the end, I'll be forever grateful for getting to love you for these final seven minutes."
–The Jongsang book I wrote almost 6 years ago.