It still hurts.
While it has been some time now, there are still objects and places that will inevitably trigger a flood of memories, and feelings. And sometimes as I drift off to sleep, I will think of you, wondering what you are doing, how you are doing.
And it still hurts.
Like a moth to the flame.
I crept closer.
I knew I will be hurt. I knew the pain will be gut-wrenching, leaving a scar so deep that it might never heal. Yet I crept closer. I tried to put up some feeble attempt to defend myself by building walls, really thick walls. But they were tore down easily. Multiple attempts were made, but each time, the walls were destroyed like they were made of straws.
I give up. I surrender. You can do anything you like to me. I am not going to resist.
Like a moth to the flame.
I crept closer.
Just a small request when my wings touch the flame, please be gentle.