#wordsleftunsaid

A troca de olhares — rápida, mas tão intensa — rasgou meu peito em silêncio. Foi como se o tempo parasse por um segundo só nosso, embora o mundo ao redor continuasse girando alheio à dor que me consumia.

Meu coração, tolo e insistente, bateu mais forte… não de esperança, mas de saudade daquilo que nunca foi. Dói. Dói saber que nunca o terei. Que esse sentimento mora só em mim — um grito mudo que ecoa no vazio da impossibilidade.

Meu corpo, cúmplice do desejo, suplica por uma presença que não lhe pertence. E eu sigo aqui, entre o real e o sonho, amando em silêncio quem talvez nunca vai saber.

It’s been weeks, and I still can’t stop thinking about you. I try not to, I really do. But you slip into my thoughts anyway—quietly, effortlessly, as if you belong there, as if you’ve taken up permanent residence in the corners of my mind.

I’ve started sharing my words with others, letting them into this fragile, unpolished part of me I’ve always been too afraid to show. They tell me the words are beautiful, that they carry a kind of raw truth that’s hard to find. They say they feel something when they read them, as if the weight of my heart presses through every syllable.

And yet, I can’t help but wonder—would you think the same? Would you see yourself in these lines, or would my words fall short, unable to bridge the space between us? Every phrase I write, every thought, every aching syllable carries your name, even if I never let it touch the page.

I don’t write for their praise. I write because it’s the only way I know how to keep you close. It’s the only way I know how to make sense of this strange, hollow feeling that’s lingered since you’ve been gone.

Sometimes I wonder if you’d even recognize yourself here—if you’d see the light you brought to my days, or if you’d only notice the shadows that remain now that you’ve left. And maybe it doesn’t matter, because the truth is, I’ll keep writing anyway.

Lungkot sa mga mata'y pinapawi

Walang iba pang minimithi

Kundi ang masilayan kang nakangiti

Mga ngiti mong hindi ako ang dahilan

Okey lang, kahit ako'y nasasaktan

My experience with things that help create fire.

You were the third one I had met.

The most forward one yet.

Copious compliments, endless cutes, and questions galore.

What my past self did not know what was to transpire.

I inquired to the reality of our interaction.

Is this a biography or are we just Tolken? (Lord of the rings guy)

I was all the languages that you spoke.

You were the classes I never took.

I never creased your spine or dog eared your pages.

Your words left without annotations.

Like seedless plantations promised to further generations.

I still question your motivations. Between cell phone calls and book store exploration this two and a half hour expedition was a delightful sensation to my emotions.

And maybe that's it. The one thing I'm made of is the one thing that stopped your love.

Emotions.

The radical notion that moves people across oceans is the one thing you didn't want.

And I thought you were blunt, that's what your profile said.

And maybe I'm wrong, it's all in my head, That you did want me but left instead.