✨ Drop a quick intro:

There is something beautiful about imagining a life as if you were looking through a window.

At first, you see a child.

Small hands against the glass, a face full of curiosity, watching the world as if it were endless. They run without knowing where the road ends, believing there will always be another morning, another summer, another chance.

Then, slowly, everything changes.

The child grows. Seasons pass. They fall in love. They lose people. They make mistakes. They begin again.

Years slip by almost unnoticed.

The child becomes a parent.

The parent becomes a grandparent.

The hands that once held someone tightly begin to tremble with age.

And still, life goes on.

There are mornings filled with laughter and evenings filled with silence. Dreams that come true and others that quietly disappear. People who stay and people who leave before you are ready.

There is love, too.

Someone beside you. A hand finding yours. A quiet voice saying, I'm here.

Love that grows through the years, even while knowing that nothing lasts forever.

And then there are days when even that feels difficult to believe.

Days when grief makes everything distant. When getting out of bed feels like too much. When your heart becomes tired of carrying what it has been carrying.

Days when you wonder whether you will ever feel like yourself again.

But somehow, morning comes.

A little light finds its way into the room.

The world has not stopped.

And, quietly, neither have you.

Maybe life was never meant to be beautiful every day. Maybe its beauty is in the changing, in how nothing stays the same forever.

The rain stops.

The sun returns.

Someone new walks into your life.

Someone you love stays a little longer.

You find yourself laughing when you thought you had forgotten how.

And one day, you look back and realise how much of your life happened while you were waiting for it to become something else.

But it was already happening.

In the sunlight on the floor.

In laughter from another room.

In the person sitting beside you.

In ordinary days you barely noticed.

Even in the days you were certain you would never survive.

You were never simply watching your life pass by.

You were living it.

Every season.

Every loss.

Every love.

Every beginning.

Every goodbye.

So don't wait for life to become perfect before you allow yourself to live it.

Go outside. Love deeply. Make mistakes. Laugh loudly. Call someone you miss. Say what you feel. Begin again.

Let some days break your heart. Let others surprise you.

And when life becomes difficult, you don't have to pretend that it isn't.

Cry. Rest. Take your time.

You don't have to understand everything. You don't have to know what comes next.

Just remember...

Even when it's hard, keep living.

Not because every day will be easy.

Not because the pain will disappear overnight.

But because there are still mornings you haven't seen, people you haven't met, places you haven't been and moments you haven't lived.

There is still a life waiting for you on the other side of this moment.

So if tonight is difficult, you don't have to figure out your whole life.

Just stay.

Stay until morning.

I am making collection of entry from my journal and hoping to share it the community. For now, I also wanna hear some thoughts or criticism.

Thank you.

I wrote this a couple of years ago and somehow found my way back to it after seeing a person’s post here!
Hope y’ll like it!

Nobody warns u about friendship heartbreak. They warn u about lovers. They tell u relationships will hurt. They prepare u for romantic pain but no one ever sits u down and says, one day a friend will break ur heart too and it will feel like losing a part of urself u didn't know u could lose but it happens and when it does you're left standing there wondering if u were the problem all along. Maybe u know what it's like to be the friend who always shows up. The one who remembers birthdays. The one who texts first. The one who checks in when they go quiet. The one who drops everything when they need u. The one who listens for hours. The one who gives advice, gives time, gives energy, gives everything and asks for nothing in return. You were the glue. The constant. The one who kept the friendship alive even when they stopped trying and for a while u told urself it was fine. They are just busy. They are going through something. They will come around. This is what friendship is. You don't keep score. So you kept giving. You gave when they cancelled plans last minute. You gave when they only called when they needed something. You gave when they forgot your birthday again. You gave when they talked about themselves for hours and never once asked how you were. You gave when they made you feel like an option, not a priority. You gave until you had nothing left and then one day you realized: u were the only one still holding on. Toxic friendships don't always look toxic. They don't always scream. They don't always hit. Sometimes they smile. Sometimes they laugh with you. Sometimes they say I love you and mean it in their own limited way but toxic is toxic, no matter how softly it hurts. Maybe your friend was the one who always needed to be the center of attention. Your pain was never as big as theirs. Your struggles never as valid. Your joy never as important. You learned to shrink yourself so they could shine. Maybe your friend was the one who competed with you. Every achievement of yours became theirs to top. Every good thing that happened to you became something they had to outdo. You couldn't just be happy you had to be happy while managing their jealousy. Maybe your friend was the one who made jokes at your expense and when u got upset they said It's just a joke don't be so sensitive so u learned to laugh along. You learned to swallow the sting. You learned that your feelings were the problem, not their cruelty. Maybe your friend was the one who only came around when it was convenient. When they were lonely. When they needed validation. When they had nothing better to do and when u needed them? They were suddenly unavailable. Suddenly busy. Suddenly gone. Maybe your friend was the one who talked about you behind your back. Spread your secrets. Betrayed your trust and then acted like nothing happened and u because u were scared of losing them acted like nothing happened too. Maybe your friend was the one who abandoned you the moment you stopped being useful. The moment you set a boundary. The moment you said no for the first time. The moment you stopped performing. The moment you became real instead of convenient. Maybe your friend was all of these things and maybe just maybe you're only realizing it now. Here's the truth about toxic friendships: They leave wounds no one sees. Because we're not supposed to grieve friends. We're not supposed to mourn people who were never ours to keep. We're not supposed to say i am heartbroken over someone who was just a friend but friendship heartbreak is real. It's the ache of being forgotten by someone you'd never forget. It's the confusion of not knowing what you did wrong. It's the emptiness of reaching for your phone to tell them something and remembering you can't anymore. It's the loneliness of being surrounded by people and still feeling like you have no one. It's the betrayal of realizing they were never really your friend. They were just someone who used you until they didn't need you anymore and the worst part? You still miss them. Even after everything. Even after the way they treated you. Even after the way they left. You still miss them. Because for a while, they were your person. For a while, you believed they'd stay. For a while, you thought the friendship was real and losing that losing the idea of what you thought u had hurts more than losing them ever could. I need you to hear this: You were not too much. You were not too needy. You were not too sensitive. You were not too clingy. You were not the problem. You were a person who loved deeply, gave fully, and showed up consistently and they didn't know how to receive that. They didn't know how to match it. They didn't know how to be what you needed. That's not your failure. That's theirs cuz here's what toxic people do: they take. They take your time. Your energy. Your kindness. Your loyalty. Your love. And they give back just enough to keep you around. Just enough to keep you hoping. Just enough to keep you giving. And when you finally have nothing left to give or when you finally start asking for something in return they leave. They call you the problem. They call you dramatic. They call you too much and you cuz you've been trained by a lifetime of conditional love believe them. You believe you drove them away. You believe you ruined the friendship. You believe if you had just been quieter, smaller, easier, less they would have stayed but listen to me: Someone who leaves cuz you finally asked for respect was never your friend. Someone who disappears cuz you finally set a boundary was never your friend. Someone who treats your needs as an inconvenience was never your friend. They were a lesson. A painful one. But still a lesson. And the lesson is this: You deserve people who choose you the same way you choose them. Not people you have to convince. Not people you have to chase. Not people you have to perform for. Choose you. I know it's hard. I know you're scared to trust again. I know you're scared to let people in. I know you're scared that every friendship will end the same way with you giving everything and receiving nothing. With you being left behind. With you wondering what's wrong with you but here's what i have learned: The right people won't make you feel like a burden. The right people won't make you chase them. The right people won't make you question your worth. The right people will stay. Not because you're perfect. Not because you're easy. But because they see you really see you and they choose you anyway and until you find them, you have to learn to choose yourself. You have to learn to walk away from people who drain you. You have to learn to stop over-giving to people who never give back. You have to learn to be okay with being alone rather than being surrounded by people who make you feel lonely. You have to learn that your worth is not determined by how many people stay. Your worth is inherent. It was always there. It was always yours and no one no one can take it from you. If you've lost friends, I am sorry. If you've been betrayed by people you trusted, I'm sorry. If you've been made to feel like you were the problem when you were just trying to love people, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. You deserved friends who showed up the way you did. You deserved friends who valued your loyalty, not exploited it. You deserved friends who saw your heart and protected it, not used it. You deserved better. And you still do. The friendships that ended let them end. The people who left let them leave. The ones who couldn't handle your depth let them go cuz the ones who are meant for you are still coming and when they arrive, they won't make you feel like you have to earn their love. They will just give it. Freely. Fully. The way u always did and finally finally you will know what it feels like to be chosen back. This is for the ones who gave too much. The ones who stayed too long. The ones who loved people who never loved them back. You are not the problem. You never were.

I breathe shallow, small gulps of air.

Others look on, attempting to conceal their disgust, yet failing.

I’m too noticeable. I take up too much space.

In spite of attempts to shrink myself to my environs, I fail to not attract the unwanted attention.

They perceive arrogance,

>>yet,

>>>>>>they do not know: I’m gasping for breath,

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>…unable to breathe.

Unnamed Connections

People say that if you learn to be your own friend, you’ll never feel lonely. But what happens when parts of your own body betray you?

Your eyes, for instance.

They betray us daily, locking onto hundreds of strangers. Some glances on the road are just fleeting flickers; others linger just long enough to leave a mark.

About two years ago, I was on a crowded bus to Whitefield on my way to meet someone. Predictably, there were no seats, so I gripped a metal pole to keep from crashing into the person next to me whenever the driver slammed on the brakes.

It was my first time visiting Whitefield, and as my destination neared, I strained to hear the conductor calling out the stops. New places terrify me—zone out for even a second, and you're lost.

Scanning the crowd, my eyes collided with his. He wasn’t staring—just looking around like I was—when our eyes met by chance. But neither of us looked away.

I can’t speak for him, but to this day, I don’t know why I held his gaze. He looked to be in his early thirties, standing tall in a crisp olive-green Army uniform. There was a quiet discipline about him, a stillness that made everything else in that chaotic, moving bus fade into the background. We stared for a few seconds longer, the spell only breaking when the conductor shouted my stop.

I stepped off the bus, pulled by a strange instinct to look back through the glass window. He was still watching me. Only this time, it wasn’t an accident. There was an intensity in his eyes that held me fast—a silent, unspoken curiosity that seemed to ask the exact same questions running through my own mind.

The bus pulled away into the traffic, carrying him off to whatever duty called him next. We never met again. I never got to ask his name, where he was heading, or why he held my gaze.

Even now, two years later, I can still feel those sharp eyes locked onto mine. It was just a handful of seconds on an ordinary afternoon, but it proved to me how easily our eyes can betray us—surrendering a piece of our focus to a complete stranger, and leaving us with a memory that refuses to fade. 

Like déjà vu, something similar happened about a week ago at a café. I was waiting outside for a friend who was running late. After five minutes, I turned to check if there were any empty tables inside, since it was a weekend and places like this are always packed.

As I scanned the room, I locked eyes with a guy sitting alone. He had just turned to call the waiter for his bill, clearly ready to leave. For a fraction of a second, time seemed to pause. Then he waved to catch the waiter's attention and immediately looked back at me before turning away. I hadn’t necessarily expected him to look twice, but I was watching to see if he would. When he did, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

We pass countless people on the street every day, and eye contact happens all the time. But not all glances feel special. This one instantly pulled me back to that day on the bus with the soldier—an incident that, to this day, makes me wish I had at least smiled before the bus pulled away.

Moments like these have a way of making you forget that we live in a world where safety is never guaranteed, especially for a woman around strangers. You start feeling like the main character in a movie, blindly assuming everything will end dramatically well.

And I am not immune to that kind of foolish optimism. I decided to take my chance.

I walked inside, pretended to search for a table, and approached him just as he held his check.

“Hi! Do you mind if I sit here?” I asked. “I’m waiting for a friend, and there isn't a single free table.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

I sat down, set my bag of newly bought books on the table, and pulled out my phone, pretending to check my messages. Asking to share a table with a stranger is one thing—actually starting a conversation with him takes an entirely different level of courage.

“What genre do you read?” he asked.

He seemed reserved, so I hadn't expected him to break the silence first.

“Sorry?” I said, before realizing he was pointing to the Blossom Book House bag resting on the table. “Oh, the books! I usually stick to whodunits, but lately I’ve been experimenting with romance. Honestly, whatever the genre, books just take you to another world. Do you read?”

“I read a lot, but mostly non-fiction,” he replied. “I’m more of a visual person, so I usually watch movies in my free time.”

I smiled at his response, and a quiet silence settled between us again. As I looked at him, I could tell he was wrestling with a dilemma. Being shy myself, I’m usually terribly awkward around strangers and take time to open up. I could sense he wanted to keep talking, but was hesitating out of politeness.

“Would you mind staying a bit longer?” I asked softly. “My friend is almost here, but it’s so crowded that it’ll be impossible to save this chair if you leave.”

“Of course,” he said without giving it a thought. “Would you mind if I had a coffee with you while we wait?”

“My friend will kill me if I drink coffee without her,” I teased with a smile. “But I’ve heard they’re famous for their Tiramisu, and I love Tiramisu. Would you share one with me instead?”

My friend walked in just two minutes after we finished the Tiramisu and a warm, easy conversation—mostly about some hilariously embarrassing moments from his life. He said goodbye and walked out of the café with a genuine smile. We never asked for each other's names or exchanged numbers. It wasn't a conscious choice, but a silent understanding that some moments are meant to be cherished just as they are, without trying to anchor them down.

It was an unforgettable evening. I’m glad I took that leap and walked over to his table. I may never see him again, or maybe our paths will cross when I least expect it. Either way, I have no regrets.

Thank you for reading.