why does wanting to be loved sometimes feel so embarrassingly pathetic?
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why does wanting to be loved sometimes feel so embarrassingly pathetic?

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this too shall pass but the fuck was that for
til my self sabotage do us apart
iβm not even sad in a loud way anymore.
itβs just this quiet kind of tired that sits there and doesnβt leave.
i wake up, do the things iβm supposed to do, eat, talk, reply, smile when i need to and it all just feels like iβm going through something already finished
like the ending is already written and iβm justβ¦ filling in time
because whatβs the point reallyβ¦if everything eventually ends anyway? if people leave, if things fade, if even the good parts donβt stay.
i try to look for something. anything. to make it feel worth it but some days itβs like thereβs nothing. i actually want at the end of all this.
no big dream, no clear reason, just⦠continuing.
and thatβs the part that feels the hardest.
sometimes i donβt want anything dramatic, i donβt want to break down or disappear in a painful way.
i just.. wish i could quietly stop existing for a bit, like melting into a cloud somewhere where nothing is expected of me.
no thinking, no explaining, no trying to be okay.
just soft, just still, just at peace..
because iβm so tired of carrying, even when nothing looks heavy. it still feels like it is.
and i donβt know. maybe iβd come back. maybe i wouldnβt.
but for once, i just want to rest without feeling like i have to wake up again.

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I wonder if there's something wrong with the way I give love. If it's too bright or too warm and people mistake it for a different kind of sun.
| excerpt from a novel I will never write
itβs only been hours since you left,
yet it feels like the world has fallen quiet.
but i know your soul has found its light
free from pain, resting gently among the stars.
heaven gained a kind heart today,
and iβll carry your love with me always. π€

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you gave without asking,
loved without end.
your strength became our shelter,
your heart, our friend.
though your chair is empty,
your warmth still stays
in the quiet mornings,
and our endless yesterdays.
β€οΈ
ive cupped the river in trembling hands,
thinking if i held it still enough,
it would stop its rush,
stay clear, stay kind.
but water keeps its promise to move
carving paths i cannot follow,
slipping through every reason
i whisper into its current.
ive learned the cruel mercy of time
how it heals, but not always to wholeness;
how it takes, and still leaves enough
for us to keep trying.
and so i stand at the edge,
hands open now,
knowing some tides are meant
to be watched, not won.
if they asked who id run to, id only point at the night sky
for sometimes the stars feel closer than anyone on earth
Housekibako ni Ai wo Tsumeyou, ch.Β 1

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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