Skip to main content

I hope you chew your food slowly because you are learning how to savour the taste again, not because your eyes and your chest are still heavy with tears. I hope you grow your hair again because you once loved it long, or keep it short simply because it feels like you, not because some distant part of you is still hurting in ways you do not speak of. I hope you enjoy your midnight drives because you love the silence of the road, not because you need somewhere to scream, where no one could hear you, without worried faces finding you. I hope you stay a little longer in the shower, soft with yourself, not sitting on the floor and letting the water fall just to drown your tears, as if they could take the pains off you. And I hope, in the quiet way healing comes, with no one noticing and nothing certain, you begin again, slowly, tenderly, even if your hands are still trembling, even if your heart does not quite believe it yet, even if you have to learn to live with yourself all over again. M. | I hope you stay April 2026


from Chocolate & Thoughts https://ift.tt/KQVXDbY
via IFTTT
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I met my twenty-year-old self and said, "I can finally afford all the books you used to stand in the library holding for a little too long. The ones you memorized from the back covers because buying them was out of the question. The ones you promised yourself you would own someday." She smiled. Then she glanced at her phone. "Dad's waiting outside." In that moment, I felt the distance between her life and mine all at once. M. June 2026

from Chocolate & Thoughts https://ift.tt/5UrbdXQ via IFTTT
Post a Comment
Read more

Perhaps the part of what's frightening me is not only the pain I'm feeling now. It's also the pain I'm not feeling. I keep looking at that wall and wondering what it's holding back. If this is how much I hurt with it still standing, what happens if it comes down? The thought follows me everywhere. It sits beside me at work. It waits for me in the quiet. It gnaws at whatever sanity I have left. But what if my mind is not storing all of this grief behind a dam waiting to burst? What if it is already doing what minds are designed to do? What if it is carrying the weight the same way a river carries rain. Not all at once, but as it comes. A little when I cried during my lunch break. A little when a song catches me off guard. A little when I am alone with my coffee and there is no one to distract me from myself. A little when a memory drifts across my mind without warning. Perhaps the wall is not hiding a flood. Perhaps it is simply teaching the water how to pass through me without drowning me. Not all at once. Just enough for today. M. June 2026

from Chocolate & Thoughts https://ift.tt/GcUjDxb via IFTTT
Post a Comment
Read more

Father's Day always arrives carrying two versions of time. One tells me it has been eleven years. The other tells me it was only yesterday. I have lived entire chapters of my life without you. I have grown older. I have become someone you never got the chance to meet. There are stories I still wish I could tell you. Small things. Important things. Ordinary things that somehow matter because they happened to me. And every Father's Day, I find myself reaching across a distance that cannot be crossed. I wonder what you would think of the person I am now. I wonder if you would be proud. I hope you would be. I hope you would see how hard I have tried. How I kept going on days when I wanted to stop. How I carried the lessons you left behind, even when I was afraid, I might forget the sound of your voice. The truth is, I still miss you. Not only in the big moments. Not only in the milestones. I miss you in the quiet parts of life. When something good happens and I wish I could tell you. When something hurts and I wish I could hear you say my name. When I see fathers and daughters together and feel that familiar ache return. Eleven years later, love has not disappeared. It has simply changed shape. It lives now in memories. In photographs. In stories. In the person I became because you were once here. And today, more than anything, I hope you knew how much you were loved. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I miss you still. And I think I always will. M. 21 June 2026

from Chocolate & Thoughts https://ift.tt/s1ovpS0 via IFTTT
Post a Comment
Read more