The scar I branded on his collarbone became the judge of our fifteen years of love and murder.
Six breakups, six restarts.
The age of eighteen is for the future, the age of twenty-two is for sacrifice, and the age of twenty-six is for betrayal... Every reconciliation is like repeating the same mistakes, and every breakup makes old wounds pile up with new ones.
At the age of thirty-three, I met him again at the pet hospital.
He was holding the dog "Memorial" we raised together in his arms, and I could see at a glance that the scar caused by my loss of control was still on his collarbone, like a silent mark.
In order to "commemorate", we were forced to sign a temporary agreement and play the role of a pair of cooperative "parents".
As I took care of him day after day, I discovered that he was not only marked by my anger, but also by my love.
And he finally admitted that he left this scar not out of hatred, but out of fear of forgetting the person who could make him suffer to the extreme and love to the extreme.
This is the last chance we give each other.
Either, while burying the past, truly reconcile;
Or, bury them completely together with the memories.
Nice! Come and see them all!