đŤ
there's no standard treatment for a broken heart. i sigh quietly to myself, thinking iâll 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 himâthe 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 itselfâmanifesting, 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 endedânot 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 addâthroughout 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 hadnât expected. I had let him slip from my thoughts, let weeks pass without missing himâuntil I saw what I had once longed for, in the hands of someone else. I hadnât 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? wasnât I pretty enough for himâŚ? why⌠her⌠not⌠meâŚ?
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 doesnât 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. iâve fallen to deep, so now every time i think of him, i will miss him deeply.
Feb 28, 2025
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oh honey I can relate and I hope you donât have to carry this weight forever â¤ď¸âđŠš
Feb 28, 2025
taterhole i â¤ď¸ you and thank you!! iâll work on it somehow, so one day i can thrive again and soar high to the skyyy
Feb 28, 2025
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Lady,
Something hit me when I saw you for the first time. You were vibrant, sparkling, full of life. Wearing a bright t-shirt with a pez dispenser on it. We chatted, I said I liked your shirt. There was a lot I liked about you in that moment, though I only mentioned the shirt.
A friendship formed. I wondered if maybe it was going to be more than thatâsomething in your marrow spoke to my marrowâbut I also knew you were out of my league, so I didn't dare hope it and didn't dare pursue it.
And somehow I stumbled into a relationship with someone else. We weren't a great fit for each other, but once it started I felt obligated to keep on with it.
One day you and I went for a walk and you told me you thought something had been stirring between us and now you were confused because I was dating this other girl. I didn't know what to say. By then it seemed too late. The wheels were already in motion in the other direction. We said good-bye and parted waysâschool ended for the year and I transferred out.
Later that year I encountered you again: but this time in a dream. We hadn't seen each other for months. Things were going okay with the someone else: actually, I was barely surviving it. But in my loneliness I stuck with her. I wasn't myself enough to be able to end the relationship. I didn't know how to reclaim me and just kept going through the motions.
But then you came to me that one night as I slept.
In my dream I was in my childhood hometown, walking down the street. I saw you and you were with a man. You introduced us: "This is my husband," you said about him.
When you said that, I broke down on the spot. Literally, crumpled onto the street.
And the pain in the dream sliced so hard into the real world that I woke up crying. Twenty-two years old, alone in the dark, tears streaming down my my face. My heart breaking. Sobbing.
Before that, I'd hidden the thought of you. Tried not to think about you: to do so was just too dangerous.
But that dream planted you back in my heart.
You've been there ever since.
Mar 17, 2025
đ
in a garden where the roses wither and tulips grow limp
where colors have never been touched by the enchantress above
in a garden covered with vines soaked in tears, slowly suffocating
forget-me-nots but not a grass blade stepped on
buried 6ft underground lies the hope and faith that once ran through my bloodstreams
when's it gonna be my turn?
**i wrote this at night when i found out one of my ugly guy friends got into a relationship before me LMAO i haven't been in one since 2021. no shade to him i just lost hope (still somewhat feel the same) lmk any critiques u have thnx!
Mar 22, 2025
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 âhave someoneâ 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 âtoo goodâ; a bond so strong due to its shocking lack of tension. In hindsight of various broken and fragmented connections Iâve 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 âtoo much loveâ, and I think those who have given or received it know when they have done so. Itâs 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, Iâve 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 donât 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 hadnât 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 thatâs what I think. This is all just what I think. I donât want to come across as some great romantic or lovesick puppy or old friend. Iâm just trying to figure out the right way to love, like everyone else.
Mar 16, 2025
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Feb 25, 2025
â
is indifference the trend now? it seems like the moment someone shows genuine interest in something, theyâre met with the same dismissal as a child asking one too many questionsâI'll explain later. but later never comes
yesterday in literature class, something clicked. I finally grasped the scientific reasoning behind a certain work, and it fueled me, inspired me to discuss interpretations with my peers. but when I spoke up, I was met with silenceâa subtle, unspoken cue to keep my thoughts to myself
in that moment, I felt embarrassed, even stupid, for wanting to dig deeper. but later, I realized they might have just wanted some peace after a long lesson. maybe it wasnât about me at allâŚ
however, this wasnât an isolated moment. time and time again, when I try to have meaningful conversations about things I truly care about, the response is often the same: why are you even thinking about this? why does it matter?
somehow, not caring has become the golden standard. indifference is effortless, and effort is something to be mocked. itâs "cool" to disengage, to float through school without interest, to never give things a second thought. and those who do care? theyâre met with resistance, as if their curiosity itself is an inconvenience
the whole chill guy persona and the propaganda of nonchalance do more harm than we realise. we glorify the effortlessly cool, detached observerâthe person who never tries too hard, never gets too invested, never asks too many questions. passion is seen as cringe, enthusiasm as uncool, and intellectual curiosity as trying too hard. and yet, itâs exactly this mindset that holds us back
when we stop seeking, we stop growing. when we refuse to ask questions, we accept what weâre given without ever challenging it. nonchalance might feel safeâit protects us from judgment, from looking foolish, from admitting we careâbut it also makes us stagnant. it robs us of the thrill of discovery, the depth of connection, the joy of truly understanding something
so maybe itâs time to let go of the chill guy persona and the nonchalant act. itâs time to embrace caringâdeeply, unapologetically, wholeheartedly. because the world doesnât move forward on indifference. it moves forward on those who dare to be curious and whimsyâŚ
Feb 26, 2025
âźď¸
live passionately!!!!
use exclamation marks!!!
live a little and feel even more!!!!!
Feb 24, 2025