It's 11:30 p.m. again. At this time every day, I am writing letters. But today, I can't continue anymore. Looking at the 473 letters in my email folder, it seems like they are ruthlessly mocking me. I haven't finished writing letters for even five months, but it seems there is no need to continue. Because the destination seems to not read them anymore. It seems like every letter I write adds more pressure. I have never been so persistent in writing letters just because you said you like reading my letters. But I write so many that you can't finish reading them. Maybe I have too much time, or maybe you're too busy, or maybe... I'm just too foolish...