dark paradise

alexa play EVERYONE who played me

[dead-in-heaven]

People will give you what they have, not necessarily what you deserve. What you deserve– you should give yourself first.

[dead-in-heaven]

4 days and I've not had one single meal– surviving on air and water. "Who cares, Jannat?" I ask myself and answer myself, "nobody". A forty year old married man calls me at night these days and goes, "Jannat, what do you need beta?" — "Clonotril, sir'', "no sir, not the combination", "yes, 0.5 mg", "no sir, I won't abuse it, don't worry", "yeah regularly, sometimes when things get too tough", "no sir, nobody's bothering me, I'm single, it's just my brain", "thank you so much for checking on me, sir", I reply to each of his stupid flirts and he brings me leaflets of clonazepam the next day– no prescription, no record. Thank God I'm alive because of it. I have come to believe that men will put all the effort into someone he thinks isn't in his reach, the moment you make them feel you're theirs, boom, the love bombing disappears. My man always kept my cup full so I never needed anyone from the outer world to come pour into me but lately I've come to discover that it was all pretentious little stunts that he performed on me. It's been 4 days since I've eaten a grain but who cares. The two or three guys from my hometown, the married professor, the junior who still looks at me with love in his eyes and that one pervert. They care but I'm not thirsty for their attention. I'm thinking of fasting for ten days starting from tomorrow without telling these men. I believe they'll be the ones to check on me if I disappear because the man I put my trust into never did.

[dead-in-heaven]

I'm the woman who broke no contact more times than I can admit.

I'm the woman who lost weight, sleep and peace over a man who couldn't even text back.

I'm the woman who blocked then unblocked, blocked–unblocked, blocked–unblocked...

I'm the woman who made herself anxious to the point she vomited blood.

I'm the woman whose nose bleed dropped to make her shirt stain but chose to continue the conversation.

I'm the woman who romanticised a man who couldn't even show up.

I'm the woman who lowered her standards slowly, quietly, painfully.

I'm the woman who made deals with herself like she had won the man who forgot how many times she kept holding his hand despite the trashy road.

I'm the woman who pretended to move on publicly but was falling apart privately.

But I'm also a woman of taqwa.

I'm a woman who hasn't forgotten that she wouldn't be done wrong with.

[vexheart]

This

[dead-in-heaven]

therapy? i think we girls prefer ranting over our sex lives together like it's a group activity

[dead-in-heaven]

W33D helps

[vexheart]

Let it go

My cam 📸

[dead-in-heaven]

i broke it off on a random tuesday, literally

[dead-in-heaven]

I can't do casual shits anymore and I can't stop being "wifey". Like, this man could give zero fucks if I lived or died but "honey, when are you coming back home?"

[dead-in-heaven]

honestly babe, there's no reward for loving men at their lowest

[dead-in-heaven]

when life gives you lemons, beat men

[dead-in-heaven]

mohabbat se aisa mann utha hai ki samajh nahi aata theek ho gayi hoon yaa poori tarah kharab

[dead-in-heaven]

দিন খুঁজে জাই, দিন আসে না, রাত আসে রাত করে– আমার ভিতর ঘরে।

[sunshinerotting]

ever since i was a child ive had a headache

[petaltexturedskies]

Ingeborg Bachmann, from "Eyes to Wonder" in Three Paths to the Lake

[dead-in-heaven]

and for my final act of love I will leave you alone for the rest of your life and allow myself to become one more villain in your story and I'll never think about it again, count me in brother

[dead-in-heaven]

There's a hope somewhere in me that doesn't die even after weeks of SSRIs. It costs me. The hope costs me my softness, my warmth, my ability to love in leaps and bounds without being loved back enough but most importantly, it costs me my self respect. It makes me rewind what's meant to be forgotten everytime I try to burn it down with a lighter. I thought love was someone who would wake you up to sunshine but then I needed someone to hold my hand through a nightmare. I assumed love was supposed to keep you glowing but right after I found myself alone at 3 am in an emergency room. It's the hope that still asks me to hold on to the thorns of the rose 'love' never gave me, it's the hope that wipes away my tears while I cry for reasons 'love' never sat down to comprehend, it's the hope that puts away all the misery it brought in by itself. So, I gave up on love but I don't give up on hope even if it costs me my sanity.