Rewritten, AdSense-Friendly Version
I can’t pretend I saw it coming—this sudden collision with a past I thought I had finally escaped. One phone call was all it took to pull me back into memories I’d spent years trying to silence.
Late afternoon light filled my apartment, warm and calm, completely opposite to the uneasiness I’d felt all day. It had been five years since I walked away from David, the man I once believed I would build a future with. Time was supposed to heal everything, but some memories linger like a tender bruise—fine until someone accidentally presses against it.
David had been my first real love. The first person I trusted with every fragile part of my heart. And then, in one painful moment, he told me he had cheated. I ended the relationship immediately. No second chance, no explanations. I left with my pride, but my heart broke in ways I didn’t fully understand until much later.
Life went on, as it always does. I focused on my studies, my job, new friends, a new version of myself. From the outside, everything looked fine. And most days, it was. But grief has its own timeline.
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