Closure Over Closure - A letter
What I still wrestle with sometimes is resentment. Not just toward love, but toward the undelivered promises of love. You see, my heart wasn’t easy to access. It was behind a China wall–level fortress, guarded by seven dragons, sealed in a Dracula-worthy coffin, buried in the deepest basement of my soul.
And still, I let you in.
I brought that heart out into the light, dressed her up in hope, gave her a spin around the block — and she came back to me in a ground beef package. Pulverized. Not gently returned. Just… obliterated. There’s a specific ache in realizing you opened up something sacred under false pretences.
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