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no title can express my sorrow

there's no standard treatment for a broken heart. i sigh quietly to myself, thinking i’ll actually find an answer on how to heal a broken heart on google it all began five years ago, when i finally started spending time with him—the boy who seemed to shine a little brighter than the rest. he was the kindest, the prettiest, the one who made my heart feel lighter just by existing. and he wanted to be my friend. how could i not fall? kept the friendship up for a couple of years and my crush for him grew even stronger. sometimes he would come up in my dreams and then i would try to summon fate itself—manifesting, wishing, aching for him to love me back. because, as every girl knows, there is always a phase where we believe the universe listens. and so, i rinsed and repeated, hoping one day, he would look at me the way I looked at him when we messaged or meet up, he felt like my twin flame. a connection so deep, so natural, that i convinced myself he must feel it too. he understood me, and i understood him but i never felt that he liked me as much as i liked him. and then, it ended—not with a dramatic farewell, not with a grand confession, but with silence. I ruined it in my own quiet way: fading out, withdrawing, blocking him, letting the messages go unanswered. I stopped reaching out, and so did he. it was as if we had been a story left unfinished, pages ripped from the book before the final chapter could be written it has been four months since we last spoke. and now, he has a girlfriend. may I add—throughout our years of friendship, he never had one. situationships, yes, but never something real. yet, here she is. not me. the day I found out, it struck me in a way I hadn’t expected. I had let him slip from my thoughts, let weeks pass without missing him—until I saw what I had once longed for, in the hands of someone else. I hadn’t realized I was still holding onto the dream until it shattered before me. now, my mind drifts to what could have been. I picture myself in her place, feel the ghost of a life that was never mine. would he have loved me, if I had held on? if I had tried? was I ever good enough for him? wasn’t I pretty enough for him…? why… her… not… me…? time is meant to heal. i know this. but this wound runs deep. losing someone you once felt connected to in the deepest corners of your soul is a quiet kind of grief, the kind that doesn’t announce itself loudly but lingers in the spaces between thoughts. my heart feels heavy, my soul even heavier but today, i miss him more than usually. i’ve fallen to deep, so now every time i think of him, i will miss him deeply.

@lukrecija

Feb 28, 2025

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A crispy Realization

For someone who claims to identify so closely with solitude, uncovering just how tethered I was to the emotions of people I love was a crispy realization. Of course, that attachment is the basis for any kind of relationship. You cannot claim to “have someone” in your life if you do not feel some kind of emotional connection towards them. The stronger the connection, the stronger the relationship. We all know this. However, there is something to be said about a relationship that is “too good”; a bond so strong due to its shocking lack of tension. In hindsight of various broken and fragmented connections I’ve been apart of, any relationship that exists while remaining entirely unscathed now kind of terrifies me. I believe there can be such a thing as “too much love”, and I think those who have given or received it know when they have done so. It’s a mistake anyone is capable of making. Imagine a relationship so polished, free from any erosion (visible or otherwise); seemingly perfect. This type of connection can only be established through a building of trust and an abundance of time. However, I’ve come to learn that the more impeccable bonds tend to break easy when faced with their first real blow. Birds only crash into the cleanest of glass. *"If music be the food of love, play on; / Give me excess of it...*" I don’t want excess. For the food of love, I am no glutton. I eat until I am full and push my plate aside. I used to love like my life depended on it. I put those people whom I adored on the highest of pedestals, framed them in my gallery and admired new details every time we shared a visit. Maybe I just hadn’t been wronged enough to ever think that I could be wounded by those I dote on so heavily. What is it with loving and being loved that makes feeling hurt seem so impossible? Why must love shatter all preconceived expectations of what emotion is? Is love really so massive, so gargantuan that it conquers all other feeling? Yes, and no. At least that’s what I think. This is all just what I think. I don’t want to come across as some great romantic or lovesick puppy or old friend. I’m just trying to figure out the right way to love, like everyone else.

@ben10

Mar 16, 2025

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Shotgun

I tell him, tearfully, I’m never going to be who you want me to be. He laughs. I tell him we’re fundamentally incompatible; he acts like he doesn’t understand and asks me why I always do this, making something out of nothing. I tell him he doesn’t like to do any of the things I like to do, that I end up doing everything alone or not at all. He says that’s a 14-year-old’s idea of relationships. I think back to when I was 14; I think I understood love better then than I do now: the hope, the yearning, the dreaming, the bravery of connecting, the warmth of recognition, the fear of holding something so precious and too big to even wrap your hands around. I stop talking; he seems surprised. He drops me off at the small independent movie theater down the block from our house—I have a ticket to see The Seed of the Sacred Fig (watching it, I feel grateful for the choices and agency I do have, for the half-assed, detached control I’m under)—and he goes back home to play his video games.

@taterhole

Feb 27, 2025

Top Recs from @kidrecord

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falling in love!

even platonically, falling in love is one of the most beautiful things about life. more specifically, loving people- the way your friends do something that’s so characteristically themselves, and you can’t help but get up and throw your arms around them and think, maybe you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. the way your mother smiles and the weird little color offset in her eyes catch the light so right, and then she tells a funny joke and it catches you so off guard that you spit your water out. the way that boy in the hallway smiled at you when you started geeking about the band on your shirt. i love to love people. i love to love all of the little things that make people unique. i love to imagine that our paths cross in every universe. “i am a mosaic of everyone i have ever met in this lifetime.”

@kidrecord

Jan 24, 2025