Bat, Ball & Broken Promises

"Never ever fall in love."
I hear her whisper again.
Not in the wind. Not in dreams.
In my head. Like a curse stitched into my veins.
My mother's last words weren't poetic. They weren't tender.
They were a warning.
A prophecy.
And she died the very next morning.
They say grief fades. That it dulls like an old blade.
But when someone you love dies holding onto a secret so powerful it follows you into every heartbeat, every glance, every almost,
...you learn to listen.
So I stayed away. I built walls. I armored my heart.
Until him.
And the worst part?
I don't know who I am anymore without the pain.
But one thing I know for sure...
Mothers are always right.