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Showing posts from April, 2025

Each step feels heavier than the last. Every turn holds more questions than answers, and the further I go, the more I wonder if I’m walking toward anything at all or simply wandering into the dark. M. | April 2025

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In the end, I was the one who wanted more, more love, more connection, more of what we could never fully have. And now, it will always be my loss; the quiet heaviness of wanting more than what was given. Perhaps, this is the weight of dreams that never found their way. M. | April 2025

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I'm full of flaws and contradictions. I say one thing but feel another. I crave things I cannot have, and when I get them, I hesitate to embrace them. I love deeply but push others away, afraid of being hurt, afraid of being vulnerable. In all my chaos, I am still searching for balance, for a version of myself that isn’t torn between what I want and what I fear. M. | April 2025

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Some mornings, the feelings are just... there, without names. Like a mist hanging in the chest. You see only the weight of things, not the wonder, not the softness, just the 'I must,' the 'I should. M. | April 2025

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Someday I would learn that I did not do anything wrong by surviving. It would not matter how many times I dressed my wounds in prettier clothes, or how many smiles I stitched across my mouth to make it seem like I was untouched. I was only trying to protect myself the best way I knew how, even if it was clumsy, even if it was messy. M. | April 2025

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So I placed my hand on my chest and told it to rest; to stop collapsing in on itself every time I tried to breathe. I begged, softly, as if speaking to a frightened child. “Enough now,” I whispered, “please… enough.” But it kept aching. It kept remembering. Because some pain doesn’t listen, even when you ask it gently. M. | April 2025

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And still, time saunters ahead, oblivious to the raging storms inside your mind. Life continues its relentless pace, while you remain caught between the heaviness of the past and the uncertainty of the future, lost in this loud and lonely world. M. | April 2025

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And maybe that’s what love is. Or maybe that’s what’s left of it when it's gone. M. | April 2025

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I’m not giving up. I just need a minute. I need to sit with this breath and let it be enough. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll find more. But today, this is all I’ve got. And that has to be okay. M. | April 2025

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Still, I’m learning to notice the quiet gifts; a kind word, a sliver of sunlight, the way my heart keeps beating even when it feels tired. Even if my steps are slow, I will get to where I’m meant to be, like light returning after a long night. M. | April 2025

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And so what if you are alone, really? You are allowed to choose peace over pressure, stillness over noise. Travel with those who respect your road, not those who try to rewrite it. And never forget that you are allowed to travel light. M. | April 2025

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And even when guilt creeps in, when I feel the weight of sadness despite a life that seems fine on the surface, I’ll try to accept it. I’ll remind myself that pain doesn't always need a visible reason. I’ll allow myself to be less strong, less composed. I’ll allow myself to simply feel, without apology. M. | April 2025

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I blink, and suddenly everything is moving too fast. As the days get warmer and the light lingers longer, my heart begins to sink again, like a pattern I never meant to draw. There’s something about April that feels like a breaking point. Maybe it’s the pressure to feel new, to start over, to be okay once more, when I’m still carrying the weight of winters I’ve never moved on from. M. | Maybe it Just April April 2025

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I blink, and suddenly everything is moving too fast. As the days get warmer and the light lingers longer, my heart begins to sink again, like a pattern I never meant to draw. There’s something about April that feels like a breaking point. Maybe it’s the pressure to feel new, to start over, to be okay once more, when I’m still carrying the weight of winters I’ve never moved on from. M. | Maybe it Just April April 2025

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I’ve decided that it’s okay not to be the best version of myself today, or even tomorrow. The path to healing isn’t bound by time, it just a rhythm I’ll find along the way. I’ll walk at my own pace, knowing that with each small step, I’ll eventually get to where I’m meant to be. M. | April 2025

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Why can’t I just focus on the good? Why is it so hard to accept that if things can go wrong, there’s just as much chance they could turn out right? I’m tired of overthinking, tired of the way my mind spins in circles, but I don’t always know how to quiet it. It feels like I’m trapped in a loop that pulls me back, no matter how much time passes. Some moments, some memories, they settle deep into my bones. And even when I try to move forward, they find their way back like clockwork. A constant cycle I wish I could escape, something I wish I could outrun. Maybe someday I’ll learn that it isn’t about skipping the cycle but about finding a way to move through it gently, without forcing myself to be okay when I’m not. Maybe it doesn’t have to be about fighting the heaviness but about making space for it, for myself. Even if that just means allowing myself to feel without guilt, without pressure. And maybe someday, April will be just another page on the calendar to me. M. | April, again. April 2025

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Perhaps we are but an unwritten tale, a love the universe dared not write. Perhaps we are two souls adrift in silent longing, standing near—yet never close enough to touch. We linger where we do not belong, as our hearts reaching past the hands we hold, yearning for that one love that we could never have. And yet, beneath this fractured sky, where distant stars refuse to fade, we’d wait for fate to break apart—to free the love, it once forbade. M. | Raining in April April 2025

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“I was like the patient who cannot explain to the doctor where it hurts, only that it does.” ~Khaled Hosseini , And the Mountains Echoed

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