Chris Trottier on Nostr: She was my fire. She lit up my darkness. Every flame held a memory, keeping me warm ...

She was my fire. She lit up my darkness. Every flame held a memory, keeping me warm when alone. Her presence was a lantern, promising light even in the darkest times.

She was my fire. She burned with intensity. Her flames were a hypnotizing. Sparks were moments, embers our history.

She was my fire. Love and rage in one. Sometimes she blazed; other times she waned. Her unpredictability was her nature.

She was my fire. But fires don't last. The winds changed, her light dimmed. Despite my efforts, she faded away.

She was my fire. Now, only memories remain. The warmth is gone, replaced by cold. Her absence, a reminder -- life is fleeting.