I still can’t wrap my head around how Katarina became a bar woman. It’s something that eats at me every day, gnawing at the edges of my mind, refusing to let go. I’ve always hated bars—the atmosphere, the chaos, the way they seem to drain the life out of people. But for a woman, a giver, to step foot inside such a place? It feels like a cruel joke, a twisted fate that I can’t come to terms with.
I find it so sad. Heartbreaking, even. The thought of someone who once had so much light, so much promise, getting caught up in that world… it’s almost too much to bear. Bars have this way of stripping people down, of turning them into something unrecognizable. And that’s what happened to Katarina.
I still remember the first time I learned she went in. That moment hit me like a punch to the gut. But it was nothing compared to what followed. The gradual transformation into someone I could barely recognize… someone I didn’t want to recognize. I have nightmares about it. About her standing there, caught in a place that I always believed was beneath her, a place I never thought she would even glance at, much less become a part of.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How we hold these ideals, these images of the people we love. And when those images shatter, when reality tears them apart, it feels like the world itself is crumbling. That’s how it feels now. Like something precious has been stolen, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it back.
What she became… I don’t know how to let go of that. It haunts me, following me into every dream, every quiet moment. The sadness, the anger—it all swirls together in a storm I can’t escape. And maybe I never will.