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@mysticaldonuttale
a win is a win, no matter the road. If it's in your favor, it's a win. anyways.
Being an adult it's a high time for me to let things go now, instead, acting all like a baby!!
He wrote me a poem,
says, he's happy with me, but his joy ends.
when he's angry with me, his wrath did end.
now, that he's sad with me, his sorrow never end.
To that:
Now that I have no presence in his life, the desire in my eyes...he longs that, miss that.
You say that those eyes never lies, you miss those eyes. Yet, u just wait and watched the waiting withering by..
Indeed, those days, time sure flies, blurred with our smoke it did clear our mind.
Might, I fear, those eyes did lied, was seeking something u in person can't provide. U saw magic in those eyes, cuz they were expecting exact the same, from your eyes.
Not just u but I think of smoke, we share, just like many things, yes I've always cared.
Not in a weird, romantic, fairytale ending or stars up above- you're just someone who stays, and calls me enough.
I will always care for u, but not in a wanting back way, but because you're like blossoms drawn to kinder heart.
Fortunately, unfortunately, u couldn't meet me on the same page- not because u can't, but u won't, knowingly. Yes, that stings- but it sets me free.
And I don't think. I'll hate you, honesty.
The fact you're the first person in my life romantically who has seen my body naked touched me and kissed me. The way you first kissed me and called it a "heaven one". The first time getting intimate, you held me like u wanted me, and you kissed my forehead like you were giving me assurance that u would never let go. After the breakup, when we were again alone, you pulled me close like you never meant those words of "letting go" that "u can't love me". Obviously, I'm not gonna name this thing a "Lust" factor cuz I do not have that body you will ever lust for. I do not have those curves you will crave for. Then what was that....?????
What was that? All this commotion now? That when u still saw me u act and make me feel like you still want me. And again not in a way I could say lustfully because I do not have a body someone could ever lust for. It's either u want me or u don't.
But why would u kiss me? Or would u do that with anyone?
To the boy who thought he was a man—
It started in autumn, and God, I wish it had ended before it even began.
You stumbled into my life when I was already bleeding, and instead of being a balm, you were the blade. You came with your fake charm, your fake feminism, your fake deep talks, and I, foolishly, gave you the benefit of the doubt. I gave you my time, my energy, my body, and my heart—all while you sat there, proudly saying you’d “never fall in love with me.” And I stayed. Like an idiot, I stayed.
You weren’t broken. You were selfish. And I wasn’t a fixer—I was your emotional dumping ground, your convenience, your soft spot to land when the world didn’t kiss your ego enough. I gave you softness, and you responded with silence. I gave you depth, and you gave me disrespect. I gave you space to feel, and you used it to flirt with ghosts from your past. Letters from your ex? Seriously? That should’ve been my final straw, but no—because I was still holding onto the hope that somewhere in your hollow chest, a heart might beat for me.
But let’s talk about what you really are.
You're the kind of man who doesn’t force a girl- but chips away at her boundaries until she’s too tired to say no. You didn’t honor my consent- you wore it down. That isn’t love, or passion, or closeness. That’s manipulation in the shadows.
And while we’re being honest—your obsession with body-shaming? With making stereotypical jokes and trying to pass them off as “funny”? That’s your desperate little ego showing. You couldn’t handle someone with real beauty, real depth, so you had to make me question mine. Even in the most vulnerable moments, you found a way to humiliate. Saying shit about my body, making me feel like I wasn’t enough—like the issue was me, like I wasn’t built “right.” You know what? Screw that.
You weren’t worthy of any part of me—not my mind, not my body, not even my conversation.
You don’t get to sit with the best parts of me anymore. You don’t get to revisit my kindness in your memory like a soft lullaby when your guilt finally wakes up. You don’t get to pretend you didn’t know better. Because you did. And you chose to do nothing. No apology, no regret, not even a fucking text.
Let me be clear: I hate how you made me feel. I hate that you had that kind of power. And most of all, I hate that even now, your name sometimes echoes in my head like a bad song I can’t skip. But you don’t get credit for that. That’s not love—that’s trauma. And I'm healing from it without you. So no, I don’t want you back. I want my damn self back. And I’m taking her, piece by piece, without ever needing your sorry ass again.
Enjoy your mediocre life, your hollow ego, and whoever is next in line for your circus of mind games.
Because this? This is where I stop clapping.
-Me.
I think I will never receive the type of romantic love I seek. Ik our world shouldn't just revolve around love by men. And believe me, when I say that I've already experienced the taste of love, it is through my platonic friendships. Who never made me feel judged. I feel safe around them more than anything! But here's the thing- we humans are so greedy that we can never stick to one thing, we want taste in everything and by everything what I meant in my language is "love...romantic love". I know it exists because I exist!! I know how romantic love should make u feel because I can make, one feel. Ik it exist. But here's the thing an artist never knows the idea of being a art sometimes(sounds dramatic, ik) But idk if I ever taste it myself. I know I will get married to someone someday but idk if that love could approach me the way I've always dreamt of.
And I hate to write this down, but I know this number of time I've got rejected is because of how I appear..my appearances. It's the main root cause why I can't get the taste of romantic love else what do u think people might not approach me? They do, but when they do, they come with some expectations, some beauty standards. And that is where i got slammed the door in my face. It's not there fault tbh, it's human natural instinct we all set an idea of a person in our head. But just for once I want to keep this reality check aside and want to get some real love. Real romantic love! Just how I've dreamt it, because I know it exists cuz I exit!!!
back to friends?
No, we could never turn back being friends, we were meant to be lovers after being friends. And I know it would've been the best thing ever, but I think you already had a different plan.
We could've been the best company, with messy talks, irrational discussions, and every move we could have made, but instead you choose to walk away. Things could've been perfect, but you craved something more, searching for options, like I was a bore.
So now I choose to walk away, while your eyes insist I should stay.
I started to burn for you and u don't even know my name. You always choose to walk away while I choose to stay. Now I choose to walk away while you're doing nothing to stay, just standing there, lost in the words you won't say.
Missed you?? Haha, yes, I do; the flowers I never got, the compliments before asking, making me feel secure about my body, the emotional connection, the care, the talk, the bond and many more. I gave that all, i missed that too.
17th Dec, 2024
I'm at the Metro rn. Going for my event's meeting. and I just thought of writing it down cuz right now I'm feeling or having identity crises, self-doubt, and demotivated, I am away from home and I love it but hate it here at the same time and I want to go back home but do not want to because i know I'll regret once going back but I'm already regretting it right now in here.
Idk, I feel worthless. idk I do feel that getting an opportunity might help me with copping, but it's worse because I think they(the people I'm gonna work with) will regret hiring me. Because if they will.
It's 12:09 pm I had a meeting at noon. I'm already late. fuck it. This is how my life corporate with things I want to cooperate w
I’m always fascinated by society’s obsession with tragedy.