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Just ourselves

It had to end. Like the river sweeps the stones, the time wears everything out. It drags the good moments and uses the tears to clean the bad ones. In the end, everything is over.

And finishing is part of flourishing. It's the life cycle one more time. But for sure nothing is the same as time goes by. Beginning again is never giving the same results because we are not able to recognise ourselves, we have just changed.

That's the flush of good experiences too. I'm sure it was incredible, and I won't have another fantastic time like that, but like everything, it is over and time passed by.

And despite what the river had dropped, and besides all the waste is needed to be cleaned. The remainings are close to what we are, and the residuals are part of what it should be gone.

We can be just ourselves, you stated disappointed the last night I saw you. Nothing more we need, I said after that.

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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...