A SAFE PLACE

not everything i feel can be said out loud, so i write it here

[hersafezone]

Today I feel super anxious again. I don’t even know how to explain it properly but it feels like my body is scared of something even when nothing is happening. My stomach feels weird, like I wanna throw up and there’s this heavy feeling in my chest that won’t leave me alone. I keep trying to calm myself down but my mind keeps overthinking everything. Being around people makes me feel unsafe sometimes and I hate it because I know not everyone is trying to hurt me but my body reacts like I’m in danger anyway.

Some days I’m completely normal. I laugh, I talk, I do things like everyone else and for a moment I think maybe I’m getting better. Then there are days like today where the anxiety hits me out of nowhere and suddenly everything feels too much. I start noticing every little feeling in my body. My chest feels tight, my stomach turns and I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. It’s exhausting trying to act normal while fighting with your own thoughts the entire day.

I think part of me is still dealing with things I never fully healed from. Maybe I ignored too much for too long. Maybe I kept telling myself I was okay when I wasn’t. I don’t know. I just know there’s something inside me that still feels unsettled and sometimes it comes back stronger on certain days. It feels like my mind is constantly trying to protect me from something, even when there’s nothing around me to fear.

I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of feeling scared of things I can’t see. I miss the version of me who felt calm and comfortable around people. Right now it feels like my body doesn’t know how to relax anymore. Even when I try to rest, my mind stays alert like something bad is about to happen.

I don’t fully know what I’m supposed to do with these feelings yet. Some days I handle it better, some days I completely fall apart inside. Today feels like one of those days where everything feels heavier than usual.

[hersafezone]

i’ve been feeling super anxious lately and i don’t even know why. that’s the worst part. there’s no clear reason, no single trigger i can point at. it just comes out of nowhere and takes over my body. even right now i can feel it. my chest feels tight. my stomach doesn’t feel right. i feel like i wanna puke like my body is reacting before my mind even understands what’s happening.

it’s scary when anxiety shows up like this. when it’s not just thoughts but physical. when your body feels unsafe even tho nothing bad is happening in the moment. i try to calm myself down, tell myself i’m okay but the feeling doesn’t disappear that easily.

sometimes i wonder if my body is holding onto things my mind refuses to face. stress i didn’t process. emotions i pushed aside. pain i told myself i was “over.” maybe all of that is piling up and coming out as anxiety. and i hate it because it makes me feel weak, even though i know it’s not weakness. it’s overload.

when this happens, i feel so alone. it’s hard to explain to people. how do you tell someone you’re anxious for no reason? how do you explain nausea, shaking and fear when nothing is technically wrong?

[hersafezone]

at the end of the day, you only have yourself. i keep learning this lesson again and again, even when i don’t want to. i’ve been dealing with so many things lately and sometimes it feels like my chest is too small for everything i’m carrying inside. i wake up tired. not the kind of tired sleep can fix. the kind of tired that comes from holding everything in, from pretending i’m okay when i’m really not.

do you know that feeling when you have so much you wanna say? so many thoughts, so many emotions, so many stories about how broken you feel inside? but when someone asks “are you okay?” you smile and say, “yeah, i’m fine.” not because you are fine but because you don’t know how to start. because you don’t wanna be a burden. because you’re scared people won’t understand. so you keep it all inside and deal with it in silence.

i carry my sadness quietly. i laugh with people. i show up. i do my job. i reply to messages. but inside, i feel so alone. it’s like i’m screaming in a room where no one can hear me. some nights, i just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, replaying everything that hurt me, everything i lost, everything i wish i could fix. and there’s no one there to hold me, no one to tell me it’s going to be okay. just me. always me.

it hurts when you realize you can’t rely on anyone the way you need to. it hurts when the people you thought would stay don’t show up for you. it hurts when you keep choosing yourself not because you’re strong, but because you don’t have another option. i don’t want to be strong anymore. i just want to rest. i just want to feel safe. i just want someone to see how tired i am and stay anyway.

[hersafezone]

happy new year, everyone.

honestly, i don’t even know where to start. 2025 was… a lot. some days were really good, some days were just about getting thru and some days i’m still not sure how i did. but somehow i’m still here and that already feels like something worth being thankful for.

so yeah, thank you, 2025.

thank you for everything that happened this year, even the things i didn’t understand at the time. thank you for the people who came into my life, stayed for a while or left when their part was done. every single moment, good or bad, shaped me more than i realized.

this year taught me that not everything has to make sense right away. that it’s okay to feel lost sometimes. that growth isn’t always loud or obvious sometimes it’s just learning how to be patient with yourself. learning how to rest. learning how to let go of things that don’t feel right anymore.

there were moments i felt really strong and moments i felt completely drained. moments i loved deeply and moments i had to choose myself instead. and honestly, i don’t regret any of it. even the hard parts had something to teach me.

to everyone who was part of my 2025, thank you. whether we talked every day or only crossed paths once. whether you stayed or eventually faded out of my life. you all mattered in your own way.

and now… welcome, 2026.

i’m not walking into this new year with huge expectations or perfect plans. i’m just hoping for better days. calmer thoughts. more clarity. i hope this year brings peace and answers.

i wish for love that feels easy and safe. friendships that feel genuine. moments that feel real not rushed. i hope i learn how to protect my energy better, how to say no without guilt and how to choose what’s good for me without overthinking everything.

i hope i get braver in small ways like trusting myself more, letting go faster and not settling for things that don’t feel right. i hope i stop holding onto what’s already ended and start making space for things that actually belong.

so here’s to new beginnings and trying again.

welcome, 2026. let’s see what you have for us.

[hersafezone]

what is love? i’ve been asking myself that a lot lately. i keep wondering if i’ve ever really loved someone deeply or if i just thought i did. was it really love if i didn’t even understand what love was back then? sometimes i feel like i’ve been using the word without fully knowing its meaning. and the more i think about it, the more confused i get. everyone talks about love in different ways, from different stories, different wounds, different hopes. so maybe there is no single right answer. maybe love changes depending on who you are and what you’ve been through.

in my story, love doesn’t feel loud or perfect or full of fairy tale moments. it feels quiet, heavy, and a little sad. for me, love is letting something go even when every part of you wants to hold on. it’s knowing that someone deserves more than what you can give right now, and choosing to step back instead of being selfish. it hurts, yeah, it hurts so much. but somehow it also feels honest.

i used to think love was about staying, about fighting no matter what, about never giving up. but now i’m starting to see another side of it. sometimes love is knowing your limits. sometimes love is admitting that you’re not okay yet, that you’re still fragile, still healing, still trying to figure out how to be whole on your own. and dragging someone into that chaos isn’t fair, no matter how much you care about them.

i’m still trying to get better every single day. i’m still learning how to love myself in a healthy way, how to stand on my own without leaning too hard on someone else. and because of that, i’ve learned that love doesn’t always mean being together. sometimes it means wishing from a distance. sometimes it means praying for their happiness even when you’re not part of the picture anymore.

love, to me, has become very simple in meaning but very hard in feeling. it’s that quiet ache when you miss someone but choose not to reach out. it’s the way you still care about how they’re doing even when you’re no longer in their life. it’s wanting the best for them even if the best doesn’t include you.

i don’t know if what i felt in the past was the purest form of love. maybe it was, maybe it was just the best version i could give at that time. but i do know one thing now that eal love isn’t always about possession. it’s not always about “mine.” sometimes it’s just about sincerity, about letting go without hatred, about choosing their peace even when it costs you your own comfort.

[hersafezone]

people always expect you to show up in a certain way, like you owe them some perfect version of yourself. they want you to be whatever fits their comfort, whatever makes their life easier, whatever image they’ve created of you in their head. and the moment you don’t fit that picture, the moment you start choosing yourself, acting differently or simply growing they suddenly switch. they call you boring, distant, “not the same anymore,” like you’re supposed to stay stuck just to keep them comfortable.

i used to take that personally. i used to feel guilty for changing, like i was doing something wrong by wanting something different for myself. i would shrink myself, adjust myself, try so hard to be what they wanted just so they wouldn’t leave or talk shit about me. but honestly i got tired. tired of carrying everyone’s expectations, tired of being judged for every move, tired of losing myself just to keep people who wouldn’t do the same for me.

now i’m choosing me. i’m letting myself live in a way that feels right for me, not for anyone else. i don’t care if they call me different. i mean i am different and that’s the point. i don’t care if they say i’m boring tho. peace looks boring to people who only understand chaos. i don’t care if they don’t get me because i’m not living for them.

as long as i’m happy with what i have and who i am becoming, that’s enough. i’m allowed to put myself first. i’m allowed to protect my energy. i’m allowed to have boundaries.

i call it self-respect. and i’m not letting anyone take that away from me again.

[hersafezone]

blessing is something we can’t count and honestly, for a long time i didn’t even try. i used to focus so much on what went wrong that i couldn’t see anything else. every moment that didn’t go the way i wanted felt like a punishment, like god was being unfair to me, like i was somehow always on the losing side of life. i’d question everything like why this person left, why things didn’t work out, why i kept getting hurt, why life felt heavy. i never stopped to think that maybe all those things i called “bad” were actually doors being closed for my protection.

now i’m trying to look at things differently. i’m starting to understand that blessings aren’t always loud or obvious. sometimes a blessing is just waking up and feeling a little lighter than yesterday. sometimes it’s a heartbreak that pushes you to grow. sometimes it’s someone walking out of your life so you can finally meet peace. blessings aren’t always wrapped in happiness. sometimes they come disguised as loss, change or things we never wanted but needed.

i used to see bad in everything. i thought life was just one problem after another. but now i’m trying to remind myself that shit happens that’s just life. not everything will make sense right away, not every moment will feel good, not every chapter will end beautifully. but that doesn’t mean god isn’t giving me anything. it just means i need to look deeper. i need to slow down and actually notice the good that’s still around me. because even in the worst moments, there’s always something. the people who stayed when i thought i was impossible to love. the mornings where i had enough strength to keep going even when i swore i couldn’t. the small laughs, the random peace that comes out of nowhere. those are blessings too. just because they’re not loud doesn’t mean they don’t matter.

i’m learning to be grateful in ways i never understood before. not just for the good days, but for the lessons, for the growth, for the parts of me that survived things i thought would break me forever. gratitude doesn’t mean pretending everything is perfect. it means acknowledging that even when things fall apart, i still have reasons to keep going. and honestly, that’s what helps me now. knowing that god’s plan is bigger than my pain. knowing that i don’t have to understand everything right away. knowing that there are blessings i haven’t even seen yet because i’m too focused on the storm.

so i’m trying to change. i’m trying to see more than just the bad. i’m trying to grow from the hurt instead of sinking into it. i’m trying to open my heart to the idea that god gives in ways i don’t always recognize and it’s on me to slow down and appreciate them.

[hersafezone]

heartbreak really changed me. at first i only felt pain, like everything was falling apart and i couldn’t control anything. i kept asking why my life always feels wrong, why i keep losing people i love, why i never feel enough. i thought maybe i was cursed, maybe i was just not meant to be happy. but then i realized something… i wasn’t close to allah. i was begging people to stay, begging them to love me, while i forgot that the only one who truly controls everything is allah.

now i’m trying to fix that. i’m trying to get closer to him little by little. not because i suddenly became perfect, but because i want peace in my heart. i want to stop feeling lost. i don’t want to keep searching for comfort in people who can leave me anytime. i want to find it in allah, because he never leaves.

it’s not easy. i’m still learning. i still make mistakes, i still feel weak, i still feel sad when memories of him come back. but now, instead of blaming myself over and over, i remind myself to pray. i remind myself that maybe all this pain is a way for me to return to my creator. heartbreak taught me that no matter how much i love someone, if i forget allah, i’ll always end up empty.

i also started to see myself differently. for so long, i hated myself, i thought i wasn’t good enough. but islam teaches me that my worth doesn’t depend on people. my worth is with allah and he knows me better than anyone. he knows my mistakes, my flaws, my sins, and yet he still gives me another chance every single day to become better. that thought gives me hope.

that’s why i want to learn more about islam. not just the rules, not just the rituals, but the meaning behind everything. i want to know how to live better, how to love better, how to be patient when life feels heavy. i want to feel that calm that only comes from trusting allah fully.

i’m not there yet. some days i still feel lazy, some days i forget, some days i cry and feel like nothing is changing. but i tell myself progress is still progress. every small prayer, every time i choose to remember allah instead of drowning in my sadness, every effort to control my anger or forgive someone it all counts.

[hersafezone]

and that’s it. life keeps going, no matter what happens. it doesn’t stop for heartbreak, for regret, for all the “what ifs” that live in your chest. the world keeps moving and we all just have to stay and be strong, even when it feels impossible. at the end of the day, we only have ourselves. no matter who comes and goes, no matter who promises to stay forever, you learn that sometimes in the hardest ways, you are your own constant.

leaving was never easy. especially when you have deep feelings for someone, when every part of you aches to stay. but there comes a point when you realize you’re not good for them, even if you’ve tried so hard to be. you pour everything into becoming better, into being the version of yourself you think they deserve, but there’s still this part of you that’s unfinished, still figuring things out. and then you start to feel like you’re not worth waiting for.

loving someone you want to build a life with while you’re still trying to accept yourself… it’s exhausting. it’s messy. it’s standing there with all your love in your hands but knowing it’s not enough to make up for the pieces of you that are still broken. and in the end, it doesn’t make sense to keep holding on when all it will do is hurt you both. because when one person just wants to be understood, and the other is acting out of their own need to be understanding but still ends up feeling unseen. what do you even do with that? it’s complicated, right? too complicated for two people already carrying their own storms.

and i don’t hate him for treating me wrong sometimes, for making mistakes, for hurting me. because i’ve done the same. i’ve hurt people i love, i’ve lied, i’ve disappointed them. we’re human. we’re all just trying to do better each day, trying to grow into someone who can love without damaging. but there’s a limit. there’s a point where you both stop looking at each other the same way. and when that happens, it’s not because the love is gone, it’s because you’re tired.

tired of the arguments that circle back to the same place. tired of the silence that’s louder than any fight. tired of trying to understand each other but always missing the mark. and maybe that’s the quiet truth no one likes to say: sometimes it’s not about love running out, but about energy running out. sometimes you can love someone with your whole heart and still not be able to make it work.

and when you reach that point, you realize that staying might actually be the thing that hurts more. so you let go. not because you want to, not because it’s easy, but because you both deserve peace. and maybe one day, in another time, another version of life, you’d meet again, whole this time, ready this time. but for now, you just walk away. and life keeps going.

[hersafezone]

i don’t know much about love. i didn’t grow up seeing the kind of love people write about in books or sing about in songs. my family was a mess. loud fights, long silences, people staying when they didn’t want to stay or leaving without saying goodbye. i learned early that love could hurt, that it could be confusing, that it could make you feel small. so if i ever love you with all my messy ways, you need to know that it’s because i’m broken and i’m lost and i don’t know a single thing about how to love someone the “right” way. i wasn’t taught how. i wasn’t shown how. i only know how to survive.

so when i love you, it might look clumsy. it might come with overthinking, with silence when i don’t know how to express what i feel, with moments where i pull away because i’m scared to need you too much. it might feel like i’m keeping parts of me hidden not because i don’t trust you but because i don’t even know how to let someone see all of me without feeling exposed. i grew up believing that if you show too much of yourself, people will use it against you. so i guard myself. i test the waters. i love carefully, even when my heart wants to love recklessly.

and i hate that. i hate that love doesn’t come easy for me. i hate that i can’t just hand you my heart without questioning if you’ll drop it. i hate that every good thing i feel comes with this shadow of fear. but that’s my reality. that’s what happens when your first lessons about love come from chaos.

[hersafezone]

i hate it when someone makes me feel like i’m not myself. like… when their words or actions are so hurtful that i end up becoming this version of me i don’t even recognize. it’s exhausting. i know deep down i’m a cheerful person. i love laughing at simple things, i get excited over little moments, i actually enjoy being that soft, happy version of myself. but when people hurt you over and over, when they make you feel like you’re “too much” for simply feeling, it changes you. it’s like they slowly turn you into someone cold, distant, or even mean, just as a defense mechanism.

and i hate that. i hate that i sometimes have to act like i don’t care, when the truth is i care so much it hurts. but if i show that? suddenly i’m “too dramatic,” “too emotional,” “too sensitive.” and maybe i am sensitive but why is that such a bad thing? why is caring deeply always painted like it’s a weakness? i’ve been told so many times that i overreact, that i’m overthinking, that i should just “chill.” but no one ever really asks why i feel that way, or what made me so sensitive in the first place. instead, they make me feel like i have to numb myself, like i have to wear this mask of indifference just to be accepted. and the more i pretend not to care, the more i feel like i’m drifting away from who i really am.

i hate that their actions have the power to change me like this. because the real me? i’m not cold. i’m not cruel. i’m not detached. i’m actually someone who loves deeply, who finds joy in the smallest things, who wants to share that joy with people i love. but their treatment, their words, their carelessness it makes me build walls so high even i can’t see over them. and it’s sad because all i ever wanted was to be accepted as i am, to be loved for being soft and emotional and caring. but instead, i’m made to feel like that version of me isn’t good enough.

[hersafezone]

some people say things like “you’re there because you chose it. you decided to leave. that was your decision.” and maybe they’re right, in a way. i did leave. i packed my things, walked away and started over. but what they don’t understand is why. they think it was easy, like i just woke up one day and decided i wanted to be alone. but it wasn’t about wanting to be alone it was about needing to feel peace. needing to breathe without holding my chest in fear or sadness every day. people forget that sometimes you leave not because you hate where you were, but because staying there was slowly destroying you. sometimes the people you live with make you feel more lonely than any empty room ever could. and i wish they understood that. i wish they knew that just because you have a house doesn’t mean you have a home. a house has walls, a roof, maybe even your name on the mailbox but a home is where your soul can rest. where your heart doesn’t feel like it’s always running away. and mine never did. no matter how long i stayed, no matter how hard i tried to feel like i belonged, it never felt like home. i didn’t feel safe. not emotionally, not mentally. i was constantly tired, not the kind of tired that sleep fixes, but the kind that comes from always pretending you’re okay when you’re not. and that’s the thing people only see the surface. they see me living alone now, and they call it independence or even stubbornness. but they didn’t see the nights i cried quietly, the days i felt like a stranger in my own house, the way i tried so hard to make it work just to end up more broken. sometimes leaving isn’t about running away. sometimes it’s the only way to survive. and it sucks, honestly. because no matter how strong i try to be, there’s still this ache in my chest that wishes i had somewhere i could truly call home. somewhere i could walk into and feel warmth instead of anxiety. i miss the idea of family more than the reality of what mine gave me. and yeah, maybe it was my decision to leave but it wasn’t a choice made lightly. it was the last thing i wanted to do, but the only thing i could do to protect myself. leaving might have saved me in some ways, but it also broke me in others. i didn’t leave because i stopped caring. i left because i cared about myself enough to stop settling for a place that hurt me more than it held me.

[hersafezone]

the strangest thing about me is how every time i have to go outside, i get scared. it’s not just nervousness, it’s this overwhelming anxiety that hits me out of nowhere. sometimes i feel like i can’t breathe right, like the world outside is too loud, too bright, too much. i try to prepare myself, i tell myself it’s just a quick trip, just a walk, just groceries but the moment i step outside, everything tightens inside me. my chest feels heavy, my stomach twists and out of nowhere, i feel nauseous. like really sick. sometimes i even feel like i’m about to throw up, and there’s no clear reason why. nothing bad is happening. no one’s hurting me. but still, my body reacts like it’s under attack. it’s so frustrating, because it doesn’t make sense. i want to be okay. i want to feel normal, like everyone else who can just leave the house and exist without their body going into full panic mode. but this is how it’s been for a while now. even when all i need is to step out for some air or to buy a few things i actually need, i have to fight this invisible force that tells me to stay inside, that convinces me i’m not safe even when nothing’s happening. and people don’t really see it. they think i’m lazy, or antisocial, or that i’m making excuses. they don’t understand that sometimes, just the thought of leaving the house drains me before i even touch the door handle. and it’s so confusing because i know that staying in too long isn’t healthy either. i know fresh air is good for me, i know that being around other people, even in small doses, is part of life. but it feels like i’m stuck between needing to go and being terrified to do it. i’m tired of pretending it’s just about being shy or introverted it’s more than that. it’s physical. it’s mental. it’s everything all at once. i wish i could explain to someone how it feels to want to do something simple, like walk outside and suddenly feel like my whole body is screaming no. and when it happens, i feel so alone. i don’t talk about it much because it sounds strange, even to me. how do you tell someone, “hey, i almost threw up just from thinking about going to the store”? it feels ridiculous. but it’s real. and i’m dealing with it.

[hersafezone]

sometimes i get jealous when people talk so easily about their lives like their childhood, their family, their memories, their friends. they always have stories to tell, moments they hold onto with a kind of warmth that i can't relate to. and it’s not that i don’t want to share too it’s just that when i try, i freeze. i hold back. i get scared. because what if i open up and you say i’m just being dramatic? or that i just enjoy being sad? i hate that. i hate how people assume that if i speak about pain, it means i want attention, when in reality, i just want to be heard without being judged. the truth is, i keep a lot of things to myself. not because i’m mysterious or anything like that, but because i’ve learned that not everyone deserves to know what’s going on with me. sometimes i do try to talk, sometimes i give little pieces of myself to people i trust, but even then… they don’t always get it. they nod, they listen, but they don’t really understand. and it leaves me feeling even more alone. i wish i had happy memories to tell you about. i really do. i love talking, i love sharing things i think it’s beautiful when people can connect over stories and laughter and the past. but my past isn’t something i can tell lightly. it’s not wrapped in joy or comfort. and sometimes, just thinking about it makes my throat close up. it’s weird, how silence becomes a habit. how the weight of what you never said can be louder than any scream. i think that’s why i stay quiet a lot of the time, not because i don’t have anything to say, but because what i have to say is heavy. and no one wants to hear heavy all the time. sometimes i watch people laugh about their childhood or complain lightly about their parents, and i envy that they even have something to say. i envy the normalcy. i wish i had a version of that. but all i have are pieces some broken, some blurred, some i wish i could forget altogether. and that makes it hard to join in. it makes me feel like i’m always on the outside, like there’s a part of me i have to hide because it won’t make sense to most people.

[hersafezone]

i can say that i’m a charming person. i really am. i can laugh so easily, even at the smallest jokes. i find happiness in little things like a good song, a kind message, the way the sky looks before it rains. and sometimes i think that’s beautiful, that it’s something not everyone can do. but then i wonder… is it really a good thing? because the same heart that laughs easily also breaks just as fast. i feel everything too deeply, and it’s not always a blessing. it makes me soft in a world that keeps telling me to be harder. and sometimes i’m just being mysel maybe a little too expressive and someone comes along and says, “you’re too much,” or “you’re complicated,” or even worse, they make me feel like i should be less. and that hurts in a way that’s hard to explain. i wish they knew that i’m complicated because my life hasn’t been simple. i didn’t choose to be this way just to confuse people. i became like this because of everything i’ve had to survive. the things i don’t always talk about. the chaos i learned to live with. and all i really want, honestly, is for someone to be kind. to speak to me gently. to not scream when they’re upset. to not throw words like knives and walk away as if i’m supposed to just get over it. i wish people knew how deeply words stay with me. how much it tears me down when someone calls me stupid or says something cruel, even if they didn’t mean it. i carry that for days, sometimes weeks, replaying it in my head wondering if they were right. i think people see someone who laughs and assumes i’m strong. but the truth is, i’m tired. i’m tired of pretending that things don’t affect me. tired of being the one who keeps forgiving, who keeps understanding, who keeps saying “it’s okay” when it’s really not. i want to feel safe when i talk. i want to stop flinching when someone raises their voice. i want to stop feeling like i’m too much for the people i care about. because at the end of the day, i’m just a person trying their best to be good.

[hersafezone]

sometimes i ask myself, how can i actually allow myself to be truly happy if i keep limiting myself this much? i don’t let people in easily, i always keep this distance, like i’m scared they’ll get too close and see parts of me i’m not ready to face. it hurts. carrying all these feelings and not letting them out. but what hurts more is living with wounds that never really healed. people always say time fixes everything, but that’s not true, not for me. time just made me build thicker walls, taught me how to fake being okay better. i’ve grown so used to holding everything in, i don’t even know how to stop. and deep down, i know i’ve become so harsh with myself, like i blame myself for feeling too much or for being broken. i act like i’ve moved on, but the truth is, i’ve just gotten better at hiding the weight. i keep wondering if i’ll ever be able to let someone love me without feeling like i’m too much of a mess. i want to be open, i really do, but something in me always shuts down before i even try. and honestly, it gets exhausting being trapped in my own mind, living in this loop of protecting myself but also wishing someone would break through. i don’t know how long i can keep doing this, pretending everything’s fine while deep down i’m still aching. but at the same time, i’m scared to feel anything too deeply again, because the last time i did, it shattered me. i just wish healing didn’t feel so far away.