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FORTY FOUR

MAY

Goodbyes held power, whether it was filled with love or drenched in hate. Love's farewell brought pain and suffering, while hatred's parting was supposed to bring peace. Cutting ties with my mother was meant to bring me the freedom I craved. But one glance at her anguished eyes shattered any notion of liberation. I had seen that look before, hidden behind her false smiles. Every time I did something that reminded her of the man who ruined our lives, I caught a glimpse of that pain. But this time was different. She made no effort to conceal her disappointment and hatred. In her eyes, I was just like my father—a deserter.

But there was no turning back. I had reached my breaking point. Enough with self-loathing. Enough with the fear of letting her down and walking on eggshells to avoid triggering memories of my father. I took the first step, walking past her. My body trembled uncontrollably as I brushed past, barely avoiding a collision. It didn't feel good. None of it felt good. Let
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