𝖧𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝖨𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, “𝖳𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋𝗌.” 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝖲𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗍. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖴𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐, 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄… 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉.

It won't always be like this. I promise you, we are not composed of “I miss you's” and “I wish you were here's”. These days of waiting are just the path I take, one step at a time, until your arms are no longer a memory but a place I can rest in . ✨️🥀

I’ve given up my sanity,
to loved ones who showed me,
how disappointing it can be,
to love someone with almost all of me… while letting them break me.
Without one single regret,
watching me pick up the pieces.

If I told you
that you were everything,
I ever wanted…
could I have you?

He said: "Things don't always go the way you want," he was right. These days things aren't as I wish, but thankfully I am here and moving forward.

𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄. 𝖴𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝖾𝗆 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖡𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 — 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽.

Loving a woman is a man's job, it is beyond the boys' control!

We can apologize again and again, but if our behavior doesn't change, words become meaningless.

Loving you was like holding onto a flame—beautiful but painful.

I’m trying to forget someone who gave me so much to remember.

𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑟𝑡 🥀✨️

I ᴡᴀsɴ'ᴛ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ. Bᴜᴛ sᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ, ɪᴛ Jᴜsᴛ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇs, ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ. Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ🥀♥️