This is an idea I got from the alphabet prompt. Instead of starting each sentence with a letter of the alphabet, I used the letters of my name. I just started writing the first thing that came to mind… And this is what I ended up with. Lol.

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Mama always said passion comes with a price.

A lot of years have gone by since she passed, but her words still echo in my mind every time I cry for you.

Rest is just a distant memory now, as sleep slips away with every tear I shed.

As usual, I lie here, wide awake, staring at the ceiling and drowning in what could have been.

Next to me, the sheets remain exactly as you left them — messy and marked with the ghost of your scent.

Damn you for all the beautiful lies that spilled from your lips and shattered the walls I’d built.

All the haunting memories you left behind play on a constant loop, imprisoning me in my own mind.

Maybe one day, they’ll finally be the death of me.

As far as I’m concerned, any and every part of me that mattered died the moment you walked out and slammed the door behind you.

Regret presses down on me, a suffocating weight that I can never escape.

Ask me if I love you, though.

Never will I let you hear me say I do.

Darling, I would die before I let you see me break.

Although, breaking is all I seem to do these days.

My dear Mama warned me about the agonizing cost of passion, but I was too foolish to listen.

As much as I’d love to claim I was smart enough to avoid this pain, we both know it’d be a lie.

Repeating her mistakes, it seems, has always been my downfall…

Apparently, the lessons she tried so hard to teach me just refuse to stick.

No matter how hard she tried to steer me clear of that same dark path she wants walked, you always managed to take me by the hand and lead me right to it.

Did I ever tell you what else Mama used to say, though?

“Any man foolish enough to underestimate the strength of a woman will come to regret it.”

Apparently, she’d dealt with her share of small minded cowards and knew i’d someday face my own.

Rest assured, darling, I will pick up the pieces of myself and stitch them back together.

And when I do, as sure as the grass is green and the sky is blue, you too will pay the price of passion.

PS. my mom is still alive and well. This is from a character, not myself. But a little bit of personal experience is mixed in as well.