grace over grudges

For the soul that has loved deeply, lost quietly, and is still learning that grace can exist alongside grief. Poetry, prose, confessions, and the things I could never say out loud. 🖤🌙

[graceovergrudges]

you like me wanting more

maybe i'll never understand how you like me wanting more when you have always given me less. you know me like an open book— my spine bent against the bed, your hands lingering at the margins, turning every page with unbearable care, never staying long enough to finish me.

[graceovergrudges]

What do you mean, “you forgot us?” It has been five years. I am twenty-six now. You are thirty-one. But some nights, my mind wanders back to the girl I was at twenty-one, wondering what might have happened if you had climbed through my balcony door at ten o’clock,

after Dad had gone to sleep, after Mom had washed the day from her face and stood before the mirror wearing her evening beauty mask,

while the whole house believed nothing bad could happen tonight.

And it would have been just you and me, hidden beneath a thick blanket, the moonlight spilling across the bed.

You would have told me a story— not with words, but with the weight of your silence.

The spine pressed against the bedsheet. The covers opened wide. Your face buried between the pages, as though reading were the only thing keeping you alive.

I was the book.

And perhaps that is why I still cannot understand how you could look me in the eyes, years later, and ask,

“What do you mean, I forgot us?”

Because I did not forget. I became the story. I became the pages bent out of shape, the corners folded down, the quiet thing left on the shelf after someone else was done reading.

And somehow,

I am still waiting for the sound of footsteps outside my balcony, not because I want you to come back— but because I need to know that I was not the only one who remembers.

[lovelettersandflowers]

Hello, traveler 🌷

It’s me from somewhere out in the world ✉️ I just took a slow shower, and had a cup of warm milk, now I am getting ready for bed.

Before I sleep, I want to talk about instincts turning out to be true… those quiet inner warnings that at first I used to mistake for paranoia or just my own trust issues 🌙 It feels like a heavy thing to bring up in real life, but if you have ever felt the same, then maybe there is comfort in it… because it would mean I am not alone.

I tend to be friendly, almost naturally soft with new people—that is just who I am 🌸 Some might call it people pleasing tendencies, but really, I just like making people feel seen, like they matter more than I do in that moment. I try to stay positive in how I treat others. I lift the energy around me with reassurance and small compliments, because why not? Life feels too beautiful to be cold toward people ✨

But then, something shifted. And I felt it before I could even explain it 🌫️ It started to feel like I was forcing conversations, forcing invitations to lunch, forcing my place in spaces I used to naturally belong to. Slowly, I felt excluded from a circle I did not even realize was closing.

And then I began to wonder… did I do something wrong? Was I too much? Do I not fit here? The questions kept multiplying until I no longer knew which ones were real and which ones were fear speaking 🕊️

So I started observing people more closely, reading patterns, watching how they moved in groups, how they spoke when they thought no one important was listening. And I noticed something unsettling… how often people find comfort in talking about others, especially in unkind ways… and that has never been my world 🌧️

That was when I realized… maybe I had become the subject because I refused to be a participant.

I am thankful, in a quiet way, that I saw it clearly before I became like them 🌿 Still, it is disheartening, is it not? How easily spaces can change, how easily people can turn.

And me… I still just like writing poetry, watching clouds drift like slow thoughts across the sky, and finding the few souls who speak gently, the way I try to ☁️

And if you are reading this and you have ever felt that subtle shift too…

tell me… did you leave quietly, or did you stay long enough to become someone you did not recognize? 🌙

still here, a traveler too 🌷

[lovelettersandflowers]

🌷 06.14.2026 | A Journal Entry

Dear traveler, 🤍

Hello again. It's me, from somewhere out in the world. Today, I'm sitting by the window with a warm cup of latte and a few snacks beside me. ☕🍪 The afternoon is quiet, but my mind isn't. I feel a little confused, a little tired, and if I'm being honest, a little sad too. So I thought I'd leave these feelings here for a while.

Lately, I've been wondering about friendships. Do you ever reach a point where you already know someone's true intentions, but a part of you still hopes you're wrong? 🌿

Last week, a friend—I'll call her "Martha"—asked if I was going to attend the wedding of someone we both know. I didn't have the energy to reply, so I just long-pressed the message to read it and told myself I'd answer when I was in a better headspace. The next day, another friend messaged me, and I replied because I finally had the emotional energy for conversation. Somehow, Martha saw it, blocked me, and even deleted our entire chat history.

Maybe I shouldn't be surprised. If I'm being honest with myself, there were signs all along. She has hurt me before, talked behind my back before, and I kept choosing to forgive because I always believed that friendships deserve second chances. 🤍 Maybe I held onto the idea of who I hoped she was, instead of accepting who she had already shown herself to be.

She also had this habit of wanting people to dislike the same people she disliked. I never felt comfortable with that. I've always believed we can be kind without choosing sides.

I think that's why this whole thing leaves me feeling conflicted. Part of me wants to analyze every little detail, to make sense of it all. But another part of me knows the answer is probably much simpler: not every closed door needs to be knocked on again. 🚪🍂

Maybe growing up also means realizing that some people stop liking you the moment they can no longer control or influence you. And maybe that's okay. Maybe peace is worth more than being understood.

So for now, I think I'll let this friendship drift quietly into the distance. No arguments. No dramatic endings. Just acceptance. If protecting my peace means letting go, then perhaps that isn't losing at all. 🌙✨

And if you've somehow found this little journal entry and stayed until the end, tell me, fellow traveler... have you ever had to walk away from someone you once cared about, simply because staying was becoming too heavy? 💌

💌 Little note: the image paired with this entry is AI-generated. I love using these little dreamlike pictures to capture the feeling of a moment, even when the moment itself exists only in the heart. 🌷🤍

Until next time,

A traveler, trying to find her way too. 🕊️🌷

[graceovergrudges]

Wonderings about Heaven

When was the last time I wrote to the wind? I forgot when. I guess it has been six years since the last time I wrote. I did not write to the wind. I walked with it as if it owned every vein in my body.

I still wonder about heaven though. After all the hells I’ve been through. 

Heaven is the only thing I could ever dream of. Does it look like trees in all shapes and sizes dancing in a green, green forest? Does it feel like that warm sunlight that lands on the skin every 7 o’clock in the morning? Or does it feel like the warm porridge served by my grandmother every time I’m sick? I wonder. 

Aside from the gold-paved roads and golden gates, what does heaven look like?

End.

[graceovergrudges]

Story time

Test

[graceovergrudges]

Turtles All the Way Down

The problem with happy endings is that they're either not really happy, or not really endings, you know? In real life, some things get better and some things get worse. And then eventually you die.

[graceovergrudges]

Juliet: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Romeo: I'm right here, Juliet..? Juliet: 'Wherefore' means 'why,' not 'where.' Romeo: Misunderstandings like these are what define our relationship.

[graceovergrudges]

Daisy

I don't know. But daisies seem like inverted sunflowers to me. Hmm.

[graceovergrudges]

Sample Post

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[graceovergrudges]

July

We've only come this far, to only come this far.