When love lies
We’d talk late into the night, sipping bourbon by the fireplace, like two men trying to understand life before it ended.
One night, after a few too many drinks, I asked him, “You ever been in love?”
He smiled like he’d seen a ghost. “I think I have.”
I laughed. “Good. Don’t lose it. Ever. I lost mine. And I’ve never recovered.”
He leaned closer, genuinely curious. “What happened?”
I stared into the fire.
“She was. everything. Wild and soft. Brave and complicated. We made vows, blood ones.” My voice cracked. “I let her go because I was a coward in a world built on control. But I never stopped dreaming about her. Every damn night. I see her eyes.”
Bab Populer