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It's your name

It's your name. It's always your name. It's the beginning of all trouble, it's the end of all the right things.
It's just your name. That rare combination of 7 characters, the number that defines luck.
It's your name what I always shout so loud when I'm walking home. It's just my hope to see you in the next corner. 
It's your name what makes me smile to the screen of my phone. It's just brilliant and shiny when everything is gone.
It's your name in the typos of my writing, and it's your name even in the soup making a word.
It's your name in every language, and it's your name on every song. 
It's your name what lives in all my dreams, and it's your name the first thing that is gone. 
It's the first thing stamped in your passport, it is my password on every platform. 
It is my luck in seven letters, it is also light on the horizon 

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Dear JC, It's peculiar, isn't it, how the mind clings to memories, especially those we wish to forget? Some nights, I find myself ensnared in a web of dreams, each thread woven with echoes of you. You, who dominated my thoughts, still reign in the kingdom of my nighttime musings. I remember, with an unsettling clarity, every encounter, every word, and every smirk. The way your laughter would echo down hallways, a haunting melody that played on all my strings. The cold glint in your eyes as you found new ways to assert your dominance, your power, unyielding and absolute. In these dreams, I revisit those days, each detail meticulously preserved in the museum of my mind. The corridors, once mundane, now seem like twisted labyrinths in my dreams, with you as the ever-present Minotaur, both feared and revered. Sometimes, I wonder if you ever think of those days. Do you ever recall the weight of your words and actions? Or have they dissolved into the ether, insignificant and forgotte...