Love scars

e, memories flooded my mind. Memories of Alexander, of our laughter, our tears, and our fights. Memories of the way he used to hold me, the way he used to look at me, and th

been a collision of two damaged souls. As the night wore on, I wrote until my hand ached and my eyes blurred. But with each word, I felt a weight lifting, a burden shedding. It was as if I was exorcising the ghosts of my past, one by one. Finally, exhausted but exhilarated, I laid down my pen. The room was silent, except for the sound of my own ragged breathin