atp i just get scared whenever i start to like someone instead of being excited.

i swear my consequences don’t even have actions

aaj achanak मिस्टर सफेद aur जस्सी ki yaad aa gayi

just when i thought of moving on he appeared in my dreams??????

htt bc subah subah dikh gaye vo

i've tried being gentle about it and i’ve tried being violent about it and i’ve tried being patient about it and i’ve tried being angry about it and i’ve tried writing about it and i’ve tried talking about it and i’ve tried being quiet about it but it never fucking goes away.

i keep my distance but you still catch my eye

people who don’t read will never understand what it’s like to stumble on a line so perfect you have to stop, scream into the void, and smile like an idiot before you can keep reading.

i know it’s foolish to miss someone i never had, but i do it anyway.
i hold him in my mind the way people hold fragile things - carefully, like if i breathe too hard, he’ll vanish. i walk past him in the corridors pretending i’m made of water, pretending i’m untouched, but his presence hits me like a memory i haven’t lived yet.
the room shifts when he’s around. not enough for anyone else to notice, just enough for me to lose my footing. i tell myself it’s nothing. i tell myself it’s everything. i keep pretending that wanting him is harmless, even though it feels like a wound i keep reopening just to check if it’s still there.
my place in his world is a blank square and i know that. i know he will never turn toward me with that soft gaze i’ve imagined too many times. i know i will never be the girl who says hello without rehearsing it five times in her head. i know i will never be brave enough to choose the possibility of heartbreak over the certainty of silence.
so i love him the way people love faraway stars, from a distance that keeps me safe, from a distance that kills me quietly. i love him in the way that leaves no proof behind except for the ache that wakes me before it’s morning.
and maybe that’s all it will ever be.

every time i look at myself, i feel like throwing up

winter has always felt like the one season that speaks comfort to me. i know people romanticize the rains or worship the summer sun, but i’ve never belonged to either. summer is too sweaty and monsoon leaves everything muddy. but winter understands me. there’s something about the cold air that makes comfort feel earned. the moment november touches the sky, life becomes cozier. sweaters and scarves come out. the world slows down. oranges feel like little suns you can peel open. and somehow, ice cream tastes better when the wind is cold (maybe because winter lets you enjoy things without rushing.) it’s the season where i get to snuggle under a blanket, book in hand, a warm cup of coffee steaming beside me. music sounds better too.

so far this year has felt like being awake during surgery

did you receive the texts i almost sent you?