One day I woke up
and we no longer spoke
the same language.
I haven’t heard from you since.
― Where did you go?,
Hishaam Siddiqi (via bl-ossomed
Why am I uncomfortable being seen? I am tired, and I am no longer able to pretend in front of the people that I love, far less perfect strangers. I prefer to stay hidden. I am no one’s burden. I refuse to be pitied. I am not here for your self validation. I do not need you to save me.
My pain was never beautiful or poetic. It was answering the phone mid breakdown and laughing like I was fine.
I and me are always too deeply in conversation.
Nothing unites two people so completely, especially if, like you and me, all they have is words.
I now know that some people feel unhappiness the way others love: privately, intensely, and without recourse.
― Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed
I wrap myself
Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I’m gazing at a distant star.
It’s dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago.
Maybe the star doesn’t even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.
― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun