Stories From A Past Life

The next morning, with his back turned, I started to cry. I cried with joy for being able to wake up in the same bed, with sorrow for knowing this was all we could be. As soon as he awakens, reality would put us back in our places. So I lingered there a bit, admiring his bare skin in the shadows. Moving toward a nearby window, the sun began to rise. Its rays were bittersweet; they offered warmth on my face while unapologetically highlighting all of my regrets.



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