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
Un espacio público de una vida privada
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