Kiss me before September, I swear I'll kiss you back.

Her fingers tightened around the worn edges of the photo, and the faded image blurred through her tears. It was a physical manifestation of her own heartache, for she was holding onto something broken, something that had long since lost its vibrant color. The past, with all its bittersweet memories, clung to her like a persistent shadow, pulling her back to the start and chipping away at her resolve. "Have you ever held on to the past even though it hurts you right from the start?" she whispered, her voice raw with the weight of her unspoken question. She knew the answer, yet she braced herself for the inevitable. "You're going to hold on to the past, even if it hurts you right from the start," she murmured, almost as if it were a plea to herself, a desperate attempt to convince her own heart. The September deadline loomed like a specter, terrifying and comforting her at the same time. It was a promise she had made to herself, a promise she was determined to keep, even if it meant being submerged in the bittersweet memories of what had been.