Those small efforts that seem to get wasted—they do hurt, right? Even when we pretend it was nothing... it wasn’t. After all those heartbreaks, when a little glimpse of your loving self shows up again—only to be shattered once more by reality—it hurts, doesn’t it? It hurts every time we try to change, even just a little, for someone... and then, just like that, they no longer exist.

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A famous poet once said, ‘Fall in love with someone who loves you.’ But what about my failures in love?
What about the sleepless nights, the trembling hands, the meals skipped, the bloodshot eyes?
Even I am a failure in love—
And every time, God plays the same cruel game: denying the one thing I ask for, again and again.

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There will always be that one guy you've never met, yet he makes your heart race like a wild horse. But deep down, you know—chasing that spark will only lead to your greatest heartbreak.

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Your heart will recognize it's love when the butterflies suddenly come to life and the dead flowers bloom again. Every romantic song will make you blush, and the wait itself will hold a spark when the story begins to unfold at its own pace. You’ll find yourself running to your phone when that special ringtone rings. You will see the whole universe in his eyes, his lips will be your end game, and the only color you’ll prefer will be his passionate love.

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You were slaughtered when your intentions were pure.
The one who used to love pink
Now dances in black.
The foods that were once bliss
Now bring nothing but nausea.
The one who believed in commitment
Now even fears the flicker of love.
There’s a fear in my heart,
Too traumatic to move on.
Sometimes all you crave is peace,
Yet all you are in is chaos.
Loneliness doesn’t seem to hurt anymore—
It feels like heaven in hell.
It’s not always easy to escape the pain;
Some wounds are so deep
That even medicine seems to give up.

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I want to be painted so badly—a painting where your tongue sketches the strokes, and your bite marks carve the borders. A canvas where desire and fire collide, where your hands leave their mark on my thighs and waist—a masterpiece so intimate, too beautiful to be shared with anyone.

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To move on from a traumatic relationship, it’s not just about leaving that person behind—you need an environment filled with relationships that spark with loyalty. Trauma isn’t just the pain caused by one person; it’s the echoes of that pain, triggered by every similar incident you encounter.

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An evening so sensational and romantic—perched on his thigh in the balcony, his hands wrapped around my bare waist. The world faded into stillness as he traced soft patterns on my back with his lips, his whispers melting into the night air. In that peaceful embrace, I realized—this was the ending I had always longed for.

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I saw you standing there with her in your arms, and in that moment, I knew we were never meant to be. Because when our eyes met, you looked away—something you never did when it was her looking into yours.

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The fantasies I desired were nothing but fragile bubbles—illusions that God reminded me of at every stage of my life. Not just love, but everything I held onto slipped away like a mirage. So now, when I seem cold to the world, don’t blame me. I never wanted to be strong; I only wanted to protect the bubbles I lived in from the world's evilness. And all I got in return was trauma.

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