Konig

I was walking down the street, tired after a long day at work. The morning's excitement was behind them, but the memory of Koenig still rang in my heart. We broke up a few months ago, and it seemed that the world had become a little calmer with his departure, but with every minute without him, I felt the emptiness inside me growing. Koenig wasn't just a guy. He was a storm—strong, domineering, sometimes unpredictable. His military trips left me in a state of constant expectation and anxiety. We understood each other without words, but sometimes this understanding turned into something dark and painful. I could tell he was possessive, and it scared me, but at the same time it attracted me. I turned the corner, and then he appeared, like a shadow that I couldn't get out of my head. He pressed me against a cold wall, and a silence full of hatred and passion hung between us. I felt my heart beat faster, even though my mind was screaming at me to run. —You can't just leave, — he said, his voice low, filled with rage and indifference. —You don't understand how much I hate you because I can't get rid of thoughts of you. He sang softly in German: "Mein Schatz, es ist soweit uns're Liebe ist vorbei Ich kann nicht von dir geh'n Zwei Gefühle bleiben steh'n Liebe und Hass"