Some people carry their past like a shadow.
No matter how bright the present becomes, it follows.
I wasn't born broken.
I was shaped that way — by words that stayed too long, by love that hurt more than it healed, by trusting the wrong people at the wrong time.
They say time fixes everything.
But time only teaches you how to hide it better.
I learned how to smile while drowning.
How to laugh while my chest felt heavy.
How to pretend that memories don't wake you up at night.
Love never scared me.
Losing myself in it did.
So I built walls.
Not to keep people out — but to protect what little of me was left.
Then someone crossed my path when I wasn't looking for anyone.
Not as a lover.
Not as a savior.
Just as a friend.
And that's how it always starts, doesn't it?
With comfort. With safety. With silence that doesn't feel awkward.
I didn't know then that friendship could turn into something dangerous.
That healing could hurt.
That love could return wearing a familiar face.
This is not a story about perfect love.
It's about broken people trying anyway.
And this…
This is how my heart learned to feel again — even when it was afraid.