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a brutal appointment with the doctor, his words still hanging over me like a shadow. They said the medicine was supposed to help, to keep things from getting worse. But the side effects... I could alread

n. But that one look was enough-it was as if he understood, as if he could see through the layers I'd carefully put on to keep pe

spoke, not at first, but somehow, his presence became a steady thing in my chaotic world. The treatments wore me down, and on those days when

ncing at the empty chair beside me. But just when I thought I'd never see him again, he showed up again a few days later, this time with

d as I was. We started talking in bits and pieces, sharing things we'd probably never tell anyone else. He had a sharp wit,

smile, my reason to keep fighting, and I wanted more than anything to bring him into my world, the good parts of it. So, one evening, I asked

es and scars, to understand that he was the first person in a long time who made me feel...alive. They were cautious, unsure

d me. Makidi became my anchor, my steady force through the ups and downs. I didn't know where life would take us, or how long I'd have with him, but I knew I'