She came like a summer rain unexpected, refreshing, and fleeting. When she left, she took the colors of my sky, leaving only storms behind. I sank, deeper than the ocean floor, where even the sun couldn’t reach.
                                                                                                                                                                                               
But broken things don’t stay broken forever. The storm passed, the ocean calmed, and from the wreckage, I built a lighthouse. Now, I stand tall not waiting for ships, but guiding myself home.

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