Silas
He was like a storm—unpredictable and destructive.
I found myself standing in the garden again, the same place where we’d shared that heavy silence the other day. The flowers around me, though bright and alive, did little to lift the weight in my chest. I walked around, my fingers grazing over the petals, seeking some kind of solace in the softness of them. But nothing felt soft. Everything felt jagged, like I was holding onto shards of glass, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending that I wasn’t broken.
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