Limerence Tastes Like Peaches

Every scar we carry tells a story, and sometimes our pain is always accurate, pointing toward wounds we would rather ignore. We spend years running from the things that hurt us, and striving to evade the lessons hidden beneath them, but the ache remains. Maybe that’s because suffering has its only design, a purpose we rarely understand while we’re living through it. At its darkest, it wants to strike you down, convincing you that surrender is easier than resistance. There are moments when exhaustion makes you want to fall into its arms again, returning to familiar misery simply because it is familiar. We cling to old loyalties and inherited truths, believing that blood is thicker than water, yet every choice leaves its mark on us. In the end, when you’re standing among the consequences of your decisions, the only question left is: but which one did I drink?