Sarai and Miguel are a mistake that refuses to end. A wound that never scabs over. They are wrong for each other in ways that feel almost deliberate, as if the universe is watching, waiting to see how much they can destroy before there's nothing . They don't know how to love each other the right way, but they don't know how to stop fighting for it either. It's twisted, it's painful, and it's impossible. They're wrong for each other in every way, but somehow, they can't stop. Each time they destroy one another, it only seems to make their bond stronger, as if the damage is what keeps them alive. Every fight is a war they never win, every reconciliation a lie they can't let go of. They push each other to the edge, but neither of them can jump off. This isn't love. This is a tragedy, one they can't break free from. They don't know if they'll destroy each other-or if they'll finally become the ghosts of the love they could never have, trapped in a cycle they've created, feeding off their own destruction.
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