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I'm literally bawling my eyes out since that day at intervals right now even it's all blurry but why will you care? This is none of your problem. Yes we might have talked about intensely passionate soul wrenching love at some point but we're strangers aren't we? with no feelings at all

I lied. I will always love you.

Happy New Year love♥️

Yes it was foolish then yes, it is foolish now the more words I use right now would only make me look like a freak that's how I always embarass myself when I hear your name it's really stupid i know that so I don't know how to stress upon it and talk to you. I'm a bad talker, terrible actually. I have learnt to live with this ache I think because I have always felt it and nothing that I have done to heal, because trying to heal hurts more and stupid lover me, believes you're the one. My maths teacher would be annoyed at this state of my mind, so dumb.

I wish I were pretty enough for you

I hope some part of you feels the way I reach for you in the dark

I miss you in a way that feels embarrassing to admit. It’s a kind of yearning that makes my body feel too small, a kind of hurt that still looks for you. Please tell me, just once, that you're real and everything I felt or still do is real please tell me

Everyday I ache for a person who wakes up somewhere in this world choosing not to speak to me.

I feel trapped like I’m suffocating inside my own skin. There’s this hollow in my throat, like something’s clawing to get out but can’t. My chest aches, and my eyes sting from all the crying. It’s pure exhaustion, the kind that sits in your bones. I feel so alone. Not the kind of alone that a phone call can fix the kind that makes a crowded room feel empty. People look at me and decide who I am before I say a word. Arrogant, short-tempered, too much and maybe they’re right. I can feel myself fulfilling their version of me. Acting colder and sharper, making it easier for them to leave, so it hurts less when they drift, or for when I decide they will outgrow me, and then there's just me with my super secret blog which won't talk to me but won't judge too, so why risk? But it still hurts. I tell myself I don’t care, but I do. I care too much, and it makes me bitter. Like I’ve been freezing from the inside out and now even my own warmth feels foreign. I’m so tired of being this cold. I want people, real, genuine people to slap me hard on the cheeks then hug me tight and tell me to talk to them about all these annoying thoughts I have. Knowing me a bit, I wouldn't speak otherwise, I'd prefer to bleed but never call for help.

I just want to rest in your lap, to let my guard fall and let tears come without holding back. I want to cry and sob in the way that shakes me completely while you stroke my hair gently, because you understand. I want to pour out all the quiet hurt you caused, all the times you didn't know you were breaking me. I want to tell you everything, so you know what you do to me. And then I want to pull you close, bury my face in your chest and cry again, until the ache reaches my throat and my lips swell from sorrow and salt. I want to feel your kiss on my forehead, quieting the storm, telling me with silence that you're here, that you won't let me shatter again. I want to fall asleep like that exhausted, emptied, and safe in my man's arms. Guess I should get drunk and actually send you all the things I pen down, you might feel the need to speak up what you feel then because it's definitely not what your words said.