terrible

[poemwav]

– Jackie Wang

[nothingspecialjustasoul]

Suddenly I don't want anyone to know me as deeply anymore, which is weird because I have always yearned for someone to understand my soul

[oldwinesoul]

[terribleee]

Stop Begging for a Seat at a Table Where You’re Treated Like Trash

Why are we so kind to people who treat us like we’re nothing?

Why do we keep showing up for those who barely show basic respect?

Maybe it’s because, without realizing it, we start running behind their validation. We forget our own worth while trying to prove it to someone who never even valued us in the first place.

At some point, you have to pause and ask yourself:

Why am I being good to someone who is not good to me?

You don’t have to shrink yourself to fit into spaces where you are not appreciated. You don’t have to keep lowering your standards

just to keep people around. And you definitely don’t have to feel small because someone else fails to see your value.

Sometimes, being alone is not loneliness.

Sometimes, being alone is peace.

Because when you are alone, you meet yourself. You understand who you are without noise, without pressure, without pretending. You start becoming the best version of yourself — not for others, but for you.

It’s funny how people love to talk about their stories, their struggles, their feelings — but rarely pause to listen to yours. They want a good listener, a good friend, a good person… but forget to become one themselves. They expect perfection from others while refusing to look at their own flaws.

So maybe the lesson is simple:

Stop making yourself feel low for people who don’t even care.

Stop chasing attention from those who don’t give you respect.

Stop trying to be important in the lives of people who treat you as optional.

Choose yourself.

Because you are enough.

[terribleee]

I believe people don’t cry for a person, they cry for the attachment.

We don’t miss them—we miss the habit of them, the feeling, the comfort.

It’s like we just want a replacement for the same emotions we got used to.

When someone becomes a habit and suddenly leaves, the mind enters a loop.

Overthinking starts. You replay everything.

You blame yourself for things that were never your fault.

You try every possible way to bring them back, even when you shouldn’t.

Life feels like a cycle—

some people come,

some people stay,

and some people leave.

But the pain hits differently when the person you depended on the most walks away.

Especially when you imagined a future with them, and they leave you halfway through that dream.

So I think this:

never give someone so much importance that they gain the power to play with your emotions.

[terribleee]

Loving Someone Who Doesn’t Choose You

I don’t even know why I sent him a friend request again.

Maybe it was hope.

Maybe it was habit.

Maybe it was just my heart refusing to accept what my mind already knows.

He doesn’t want to talk to me.

He doesn’t think about me.

He doesn’t care.

And yet… here I am.

I keep asking myself the same question over and over again: Why can’t I forget him?

Why do I love someone who treats my existence like it doesn’t matter?

He hasn’t accepted my friend request yet. I’m waiting for tomorrow, pretending that maybe this time will be different. But deep down, I already know the answer. I know he probably won’t accept it. I know he might even reject it again.

This would be the fourth time.

And that hurts more than I want to admit.

What hurts even more is the feeling that he hates me—without ever giving me a chance to explain, to talk, to clear the misunderstandings. I don’t even know what I did wrong. I just wanted one conversation. Just one honest moment. But he doesn’t want that, and I guess that’s his choice.

I feel embarrassed. Exposed. Small.

Like I’ve knocked on a door that was never meant to open for me.

I keep wondering if sending that request was a mistake. If I disrespected myself by hoping again. If loving him was wrong in the first place.

But the truth is—I didn’t choose these feelings.

They just stayed. Quietly. Stubbornly. Painfully.

If he rejects me again, I don’t know how I’ll feel. But maybe that rejection will finally be the answer I’ve been avoiding. Maybe it will be the closure he’ll never give me in words.

And maybe—just maybe—it will be the moment I choose myself over someone who never chose me at all.

Until then, I’m sitting with this heaviness in my chest, trying to remind myself that loving deeply is not a weakness… even when it’s unreturned.

[terribleee]

A love which doesn't belong to me

He used to throw paper balls at me from the last bench,

not to hurt me —

just to get my attention.

And I never said a word…

not because I was silent,

His friends teased me with his name,

but because I loved that he noticed me.

like my heart wasn’t already shouting it.

They used to say,

“She sits here just to look at you.”

And he once laughed and said —

“She looks at the last bench only to see me."

He was right.

My eyes weren’t searching the board,

they were searching him.

Every. Single. Day.

It was a love so deep

that even my silence had a heartbeat,

even the air around him felt like poetry.

Then one day,

I found out he was in a relationship…

with another girl.

And strangely,

I didn’t break —

I smiled through the cracks.

Not because it didn’t hurt,

but because I loved seeing him happy more than I loved being loved back.

Call me mad, foolish, dramatic —

I don’t mind.

Because love for me wasn’t possession,

it was wishing his laughter never fades.

He was my incomplete dream,

but someone else’s complete universe.

And I whispered to myself —

“Mera adhura khawab tha wo,

par kisi ka pura khawab ban gaya hai.

Magar meri yaadon me humesha tera zikr rahega,

bhale tu mera rahe ya na rahe…”

You may not be mine,

but you will always be a chapter my heart refuses to delete.

Read it once.

Feel it if you’ve ever loved without being loved back.

Some love stories are not meant to be complete,

[terribleee]

The page he never wanted to read

I fell in love in the most ironic way.

Not with roses, not with confessions…

But with teasing, jealousy, silent stares, and the chaos of his actions.

He hated me. Or at least, he made it look like hate.

He used to tease me with other boys’ names,

and in every tease, I somehow heard my heartbeat louder.

He used to say, “I don’t like this type of girls,”

and my heart used to reply, “But I like this type of boy.”

He didn’t like when I talked to boys,

and I loved teasing him by doing exactly that.

Not because I liked them…

But because I loved the way his eyes used to burn a little.

He would sit on my bench just to irritate me,

yet that irritation felt like a spark my soul already recognized.

Maybe he never loved me,

maybe it was all in my head…

But love is strange, isn’t it?

Sometimes we fall for someone who pushes us away,

Someone whose anger feels like attention,

whose jealousy feels like care,

whose silence feels like a story.

And maybe that’s what we were—

I was a page in his life,

he never wanted to read.

And he was a chapter in mine,

I never wanted to leave

A story without a future,

A bond without a name,

A connection wrapped in confusion,

A spark he denied, and I felt.

I loved him in every way he never loved me back.

And maybe that was the tragedy…

Maybe that was the poetry.

[terribleee]

A part of my life

I used to think love was an exaggeration… until it happened to me.I told myself I wouldn’t fall for anyone. Not in this loud, messy, confusing teenage era.Love felt like a fiction written for cinema screens and old novels.

And then he happened.Suddenly, the clichés made sense.The world really did stop.The background noise faded.Time paused mid-heartbeat.I remember looking into his eyes —they shone in a way no gemstone ever could.Like diamonds carrying constellations.Like laughter dipped in starlight And somewhere, deeper than denial, I already knew —he would never look at me the same way.But love, isn’t it?Unpredictable. Uninvited. Unscripted.So I fell.And he didn’t.While he laughed with someone else,I memorized the ache of my own silence.While he sparkled in moments that weren’t mine,I drowned in emotions I never planned to feel.It became my first love.And maybe, my last —not because love ends,but because some stories leave marks too deep to replace.

I even wrote for him — words my voice could never deliver:“Is qadar mohabbat ki thi tum se ki mohalle ko khabar thi ishq ki,par itni kamzor thi mohabbat meri ki tum tak pahoch na saki.”The whole neighborhood heard the rumor of my love,but the one it belonged to… never did.Maybe love is a feeling that comes and goes.Maybe it’s a bond.Maybe it’s a connection we carry in our ribs forever.I don’t know.

All I know is —it changed me. Even in one-sidedness, it shaped me.Even in heartbreak, it made me believe.So this is my story.Not dramatic — just honest.Not loud — just felt.If you’ve ever loved silently, painfully, impossibly…you already understand this without me explaining it.