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Sunday September 25th, 2022

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WORSHIP-SK ☁️
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"This is a terrible idea," I muttered under my breath, my finger hesitating just above the glowing download icon on my phone. The screen illuminated my face in the dimly lit room, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls. The familiar logo of the app stared back at me, almost taunting me with memories I'd tried to leave behind. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling in my stomach.

I knew what opening this door again could lead to-the thrill, the connection, the potential for something dangerous and intoxicating. But I also knew the cost. The scars from my past, both physical and emotional, were proof enough of that. My thumb hovered, trembling slightly, as I weighed the risks against the loneliness that had been gnawing at me for months.

Outside, the city hummed with life, the muffled sounds of traffic and distant voices filtering through the window. It was a stark contrast to the silence in my apartment, where the only sound was the soft hum of the heating system trying to chase away the winter chill. The room felt too quiet, too empty, and the void left by my absence from the scene had started to feel unbearable.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the flood of memories made it hard to think clearly. The late nights, the secrets, the adrenaline of surrendering control-it was all coming back to me in a rush. I could almost feel the weight of the collar around my neck again, the way it had grounded me, given me a sense of belonging in a world that often felt chaotic and overwhelming.

But that was before everything went wrong. Before Vince. Before the pain that had taken something I once loved and twisted it into something unrecognizable.

I closed my eyes, pulling my hand away from the screen as doubts crashed over me like a tidal wave. Was I really ready for this? To dive back into a world I had barely escaped from? To trust again, to let someone in so deeply that they could either build me up or break me down?

My thumb moved closer to the icon again, as if it had a mind of its own, the temptation pulling at me stronger than I wanted to admit. I was torn between the fear of repeating the past and the yearning to reclaim a part of myself that had been lost.

I've done this before.

I know what I'm doing.

I live to please.

Nope. I will not be doing this again.

After shutting off my phone, I quickly scurried to the bathroom, desperate to shake off the tension building inside me. A hot shower was exactly what I needed-something to drown out the noise in my head and, hopefully, the second thoughts creeping in about diving back into familiar but rocky waters.

The warm cascade of the shower felt like a weighted blanket against my hung-over body, the steam enveloping me in a comforting embrace. The heat worked its way into my sore muscles, soothing the dull ache in my head and the heaviness that had settled into my bones. Drinking definitely wasn't the same after 25; when did hangovers start hitting this hard? I couldn't help but marvel at how easily they sneaked up on me now, turning what used to be fun nights into intense regret. Especially since I worked tomorrow.

I lingered in the bathroom longer than usual, indulging in a little self-care. The scent of peaches from my body wash filled the air as I slowly massaged it into my skin, taking my time as if the ritual could somehow cleanse the thoughts that tortured me. After rinsing off, I carefully braided my damp hair, the repetitive motion soothing. Wrapping myself in my coziest black and purple Kuromi pajamas, I felt the comfort of the long owned fabric against my skin, like a protective barrier against the uncertainties waiting just outside the bathroom door.

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