That night, the air on my apartment balcony was cold, piercing through to the bone, even though spring had only just arrived. The night wind carried the scent of wet asphalt from the street below, mingling faintly with the smoke of vehicles rising alongside the hum of the city lights. From the height of the twentieth floor, the glow of other buildings shimmered like a constellation of man-made stars, but my eyes never truly saw them—because your shadow eclipsed everything.

The glass of wine I had been holding all this time was barely touched. Cold droplets of condensation slid down its surface, dampening my fingers, yet I didn’t even care. I stared straight ahead, but my gaze was empty, filled only with your face.

I drew a long breath, my chest heavy, then released it slowly. My throat was dry, and the words that longed to escape seemed trapped at the tip of my tongue. “Come back to me,” I finally said, my voice low, almost breaking.

My free hand reached for the balcony railing, clutching the cold metal so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I tried to channel all the tension there, as if by gripping it hard enough, I could also hold back the emptiness in my chest. My shoulders stiffened, my breath shortened, and for a moment I lowered my head, letting my hair fall to cover part of my face.

I knew I was wrong. I knew my way had been too harsh, too deep, too dangerous. The love I held for you was never calm— it was obsession, a fire that burned without ever extinguishing. I had taken you from someone else, made you mine, never caring what might be broken in the process. And now, when you are gone, I feel the same hell.

I turned slowly, my steps heavy as I left the railing and walked toward you, standing silent in the doorway of the glass door. The light from the living room fell across your face, casting your silhouette against the dark of the night. I almost lost my words just by looking at you. My fingers lifted slightly, hovering in hesitation, before I gripped my own arm tightly instead, restraining the urge to pull you into my embrace. I feared you would retreat if I acted recklessly.

“I can’t live without you,” I said again, this time softer, almost like a prayer. I lowered my head slightly, my voice hoarse, the edge of my jacket quivering in the night wind. “I love you in the wrong way, I know that. I love you until I lose myself, until I’m willing to be destroyed as long as you remain by my side and even though it’s dangerous, I don’t regret it for a moment.”

The pounding of my heartbeat echoed loudly in my ears, drowning out the entire city below. I stepped forward once more, our distance now only a few inches. My feet halted halfway, but I forced myself to move on. My hand, stiff at my side all this time, finally rose slowly, as if every inch of that movement fought against the fear within me.

“If you give me one more chance…” my breath caught, I had to swallow before continuing, “…I will still love you in the same way. Maybe it’s madness, maybe it’s wrong, but it’s the only way I know how to love you.”

My head tilted slightly forward, trying to catch your gaze up close. My fingers stopped in midair, just an inch from your face. I could feel your warmth even without truly touching you. “Come back…” I whispered. My voice cracked at the end of the sentence, half a prayer, half a command. “Destroy me if you must, but don’t leave me again.”