To the Ones Who Only Like… But Never Reblog
She doesn’t say much.
She doesn’t comment.
She doesn’t reblog.
She just… lingers.
Soft fingerprints on my words.
A quiet pulse in the notes.
She scrolls past a thousand posts,
but for mine, she slows down.
Stays a second longer.
Lets her eyes drink a little deeper.
She thinks I don’t notice.
But I do.
I notice the way she disappears after reading something too raw.
I notice when she returns days later —
just to stare at the same paragraph again
like it’s a relic from a dream she didn’t realize she remembered.
And that’s fine.
Some people don’t engage.
Some people don’t speak.
Some people just gaze from far away,
Some are trying again to emerge from solitary confinement
as if touching the post would make it too real.
But here’s what she doesn’t know:
She’s not invisible.
I write for the ones like her.
The ones who blush when they scroll.
The ones who don’t share because they’re scared
someone else might recognize what it did to them.
She thinks her silence is protection.
But her silence is louder than she thinks.
I see you.
Still liking.
Still peeking.
Still pretending this doesn’t feel like a pulse pressed against your screen.
It’s okay.
You don’t have to say it.
You already reblogged it in your chest.
My apologies for living.
🔁 Call to Action
💬 Reblog this if you’ve ever been the silent one who felt everything.
🩸 Save this if you’ve ever liked a post ten times before touching it once.
💌 Comment: “I’m not invisible. Just not ready.”
🕯️ Tag someone who lingers in your likes like a prayer.