Burdened by the weight of my heart, laden with the coquettish moments we once shared, and weariness lingering on the edges of my eyes from sleepless nights, I traversed the bustling corridor resonating with the joyous sounds of students. Navigating my way towards the library, I deliberately avoided any interactions with fellow passersby. Upon reaching the mirrored doors of the library, a wave of tranquility greeted me as I stepped inside.
Within the library's confines, heads were bowed over books, each individual engrossed in their chosen literary realms. Some diligently highlighted lines on the pages, while others swiftly skimmed through the text. Although not inherently a bibliophile, I found solace in the rustic aroma of books and the serendipity that surrounded the library. Strangely,
