A friendship between a boy and a girl that is born between school desks with an attraction and harmony that can lead to nothing else 

than falling in love.

A separation due to her emigration to Canada (from South Korea) which traumatized him; twelve years of nothing before 

contacting her again, thanks to a social network; the relationship that reconnects as if not even a day had passed, with the two now 

young adults clearly attracted to each other.

Forcibly virtual encounters become real appointments that both look forward to but the prospect of seeing each other in person is postponed for a year; she can't wait and keep her life on 

pause while waiting to see him again, so she decides to stop dating and take a break (both knowing 

that the break would end the period of their meetings).

They both meet another person, fall in love and life goes on for another twelve years when he goes on holiday to New York where she now lives (and got married ), knowing full well that he is only going to meet her.

A couple of days that they will use to understand what the other represents in their lives.

A man trapped in a cathedral of memories and , worse still, of 'what would have happened if...' irritating, a woman who still feels the warmth of a past feeling which, like an ember, is enlivened by the curiosity to see what the child she knew and the man has transformed into with whom she fell in love.

I can no longer stand certain films that are considered 'romantic', I apologize...

Old age is a season where one should welcome and not reject, but.

I no longer tolerate hearing the projections we stage on another person called 'Love', I have done it many times by smashing myself on my Imax screens and now I don't tolerate it, neither from myself nor from others.

Those stories where one or both of the protagonists of the love story (?) remain mired in a past from which they are unable to free themselves, reiterating a childish and victimistic attitude that has nothing to do with Love.<1 >

Traps of the mind that exiles a life preventing it from leaving behind an idea, a suffering, a feeling born decades earlier make the male character weak, vulnerable in the worst sense because 

he remains impervious to the passing of the years and of people, chained to the mausoleum of his need for her like Prometheus to the rock wall and forced into a suffering that feeds on itself; a gangrenous idea that allows us to see only the reality that has been created, not the manifest one.

Obviously the protagonist, miserable and miserable, will return to his homeland after having tasted the harshness of real life, a crash that it will mercilessly pulverize the whole story that has been told every day for twelve years, a bedtime story where the ending is the only possible one: we cannot tell it to ourselves indefinitely.