They say, "You've been through a lot," and I nod. Because how do I explain the curse of' losing everything I love? I just started expecting the loss before it happens. I hold people with gentle hands, afraid that one day they'll disappear too. Every goodbye feels permanent, even the temporary ones. People think I'm strong because I keep going, keep smiling, keep surviving. But really, it's not strength. It's fear. Fear of losing again. Fear of caring too much. So I build distance, call it peace, and pretend it doesn't hurt. But it does. It always does.