Inside This Room

LET ME start by asking you this: Have you ever dreamt of staying in a room filled with memories of someone you love—so deeply that you'd be willing to go against the whole world just to be with that person? Imagine staying in that room together, never wanting to leave, sealing the door from the inside to keep the outside world and its temptations at bay. You believe that as long as it's just the two of you, your world will remain perfect, untouched by anything outside.

But deep down, you know that such a dream is impossible. So, you fight every day to keep that feeling alive, nurturing it until it becomes more about survival than love. Eventually, the effort wears you down. The love that once fueled your determination now drains you, leaving you feeling tired and hopeless. The bottle that was once full of joyful memories—happiness, excitement, and affection—has now run dry.

Then, you realize something: no matter how hard you try to keep the two of you safe inside that room, the real danger isn't outside. It grows within the room—not because of the room itself, but because of you. The room that once protected you both is now the very thing that could cause you harm. And so, you find yourself trapped, struggling with the love that was once your sanctuary but now feels like a prison—INSIDE THIS ROOM.