Darkness came first

The irony about have a type of men you find cute is that across skin colours, details, features, if you were honest they actually kind look like each other but in different font ms, like you are searching for the same person in all those that you meet, a memory or a figment of our imagination, half remembered, in between dreams, sightings, the flash of an eye, ever changing colours, but what stays on the tip of your tongue, the phantom feeling of biting down hard with your teeth, a warrior by your side in battle, the knowing of two souls that recognizes each other beyond time and circumstances.

It was definitely hell, and it was devastating but part of me misses being so sure of “him”