OverwhelmedSoul

Surviving is bleeding silently while the world claps for someone who’s never known your kind of pain. It’s looking at people who smile so easily and thinking, How are you breathing so freely when mine feels stolen?

We didn’t end. We paused. In the kind of silence that screams. I still sleep in the hoodie you gave me. It doesn’t smell like you anymore. That’s how I know you’re gone.

People ask why I care so much. Simple. I don’t do things halfway. If I’m in, I’m in deep. That’s why when I leave, You’ll drown in the silence I used to fill.

Sometimes, you just need a snack, a nap, and someone to remind you that Being soft is still surviving. You’re not failing. You’re healing.

Worry doesn’t change the outcome. But joy? Joy makes the wait bearable

I don’t want a fairytale. I want the chaos. I want the boy who knows he’s the villain in everyone else’s story but still calls me his. I want the argument at 2am that ends in “come here” and a hoodie pulled over my head. I want to be the calm to his storm and the storm to his silence.

Time will keep moving. Let it. You don’t have to run with it. Just walk. Just breathe. Just be. You’re not late. You’re not lost. You’re living.

But actions? They carry your truth. Even when your voice can’t.

Funny how love feels louder when it’s one-sided. How I kept turning pages, hoping you'd notice. How you never even bothered to open the cover.

Maybe it’s not stupidity. Maybe it’s just the heart refusing to be logical. Again and again.

You won’t always get what you want. But you can find peace with what is

Dedicate less time to worry. You will figure it out. Just enjoy life as it is.

And sometimes, even after everything, that memory lingers. Quietly, like a ghost.

I don’t know what I’m doing here. All I know is I need somewhere to scream without being silenced. Somewhere to exist without apologizing for it. If you stumbled across this, pretend you didn’t. Or read it like it’s yours too. I won’t judge.

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I just know I needed somewhere. Somewhere to bleed without cleanup. Somewhere to scream without being asked to be quiet. If you found this, pretend you didn’t. Or read it like it’s yours. I won’t tell.