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Fight with me, or fight me. It makes no difference now, so long as your soul still reaches for mine. I would face a thousand wars for you, die a thousand deaths just to feel your hand in mine, to fall beside you and call that peace. We have stood here before. We stand here still. And we will return again, bound by the same sorrow time could never undo, drawn by the same promise the stars still remember. So keep fighting, love. Even when the world forgets our names. You know how. You always knew how. And when the wind feels like a whisper, that will be me, still finding my way back to you. M. | October 2025


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