ㅤ      It's that point in life when you have been through so much shit, that you have none left to give. Your feelings are no longer relevant, so you start to not express them. People soon start to believe you have none at all, but the truth is, you are feeling a lot more than they think, you will just never show them. Because you are at this point, you notice how many feelings people really have. When listening to your friends or family talk about their feelings, and you have yours locked away. I am at that point in life, but I believe I am far beyond it. I have started to feel nothing. No sadness, happiness, and sometimes not even pain. People have told me that I need to let people in and stop being so reserved. I want to tell people how I feel, but I don't know who to trust. Therefor I don't. Let your feelings be known, it makes you feel so much better than hiding them away. People will listen.

Sometimes you have to be strong for yourself. you have to know that you're a good person & a good friend. what's meant to be will end up good & what isn't, won't. relationships are worth fighting for, but sometimes you cant be the only one fighting. at times, people need to fight for you. if they don't, you must just move on & realize what you gave them was more than they were willing to give you. hopefully, people realize great things when they come around & don't lose something real. always fight until you cant anymore, & then be fought for.

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ㅤ⠀⠀It was a lovely autumn in Paris. When we sat eating spaghetti in the sun I felt I had got out of prison. Neither of us had any money but that didn't matter. Kiki seemed to be able to borrow from his friends, though not large sums. We got a room in an hotel in the rue Lamartine. It was after spending a night away with one of his friends that I began to think more seriously about the situation. We had a mattress on the floor, a very thin mattress. I hadn't slept at all. I ached all over the next morning. It was after this that I made up my mind that I'd have to get a job of some sort. There were papers at the Rotonde, on long sticks, and I'd look hopefully down the advertisements every day. I preferred the Rotonde to the Dome, it was quieter. I thought it lovely to be able to sit in peace with a cup of coffee and look at all the papers without being harried or stared at in any way. So unlike London, I thought. In fact it was just this feeling of freedom and the blue sky and the light which made me feel happy and carefree for the first time for so long. One day I saw an advertisement in the Figaro for a young woman to speak English to a family of children. If it had been for a governess I wouldn't have answered, as I didn't feel qualified to be a governess. But I could man age to speak English to a few children, surely.

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ㅤ   I could have pointed longing, said to go home, and forced my heart to immediately let go of you right now. But what power? My heart has eaten too much fog of love for you, regret may be in my heart, gnawing at the longing for sweat that cannot be answered. But from how much regret there is, I'm still on my feet. Will never ask to come back, or even knock on the door of your heart with a thousand regrets in my eyes. Indeed, I admit, forgetting you is difficult, but what is even more difficult is holding back longing without you, the master figure in longing. I love you more than you love me, and he will always be. Until I found you with another version.

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ㅤ   ㅤSorry for some stories that are too heartbreaking, as if the scratches are too long imprinted in a feeling that is increasingly disoriented. If in the end no truth can be found, maybe separation is the best way to be found. Tasteers who are not really meant in taste, just can't stand inviting prolonged saturation. It's not that I'm bored, I just want to normalize my feelings without any unclear relationship, which never finds its way in love. Maybe this is the last resort, a crossroads of feelings that only stops temporarily, even though it's hard to be a support in a restless heart, but what can you do? We are destined to love each other all the time.

ㅤㅤ ㅤI know how difficult it is to continue to be this kind of person when love hasn't always been kind to you. I know what it is like to have a heart that cannot stop pouring, to have a heart that sometimes feels like it is too much. I know that you can overthink your sensitivity, and I know that it can be something you have been convinced that you have to silence. But I am proud of your heart. There is something deeply beautiful when you discover the kind of person who makes you believe in the goodness of others. There is something deeply beautiful when it comes to seeing someone who is genuine, and kind— someone who makes people feel seen, someone who makes people feel deeply loved for who they are, in all of their light and all of their dark. It is beautiful to be the kind of person who cares. To be the kind of person who stays open, who believes in going deeper.
Because we need souls like that. We need people like you in this world. We need softness, we need people who remind us of connection when we are all avoiding eye contact. I am proud of you for being this person in this world. The way that you love others is inspiring. You do not need to apologize for the way you feel. You do not need to apologize for how your heart exists here. There is courage in being the person who connects. There is bravery in staying open despite what you have been through. You should be proud of yourself for loving. Please don't ever stop.

ㅤㅤ  Everything looks in vain, I still want you, and choose to continue to force you to pull back my grip, but all I get is past sorrow which is now gaping again. My line is about choosing to let go of him slowly, and stopping all the pressure I put on him. If I could still hold on to it again, I might have been very happy, but how can that be? It turns out that this is my last day to remember him again. For you, I love you as much as you loved me before, if we can be together again, please allow me to continue to hold your arm regardless of the universe that has norms.

I called you a longing messenger without meeting, but you said otherwise. A animate figure that carries wounds without any blood flowing. For a moment I temporarily healed the wound that was playing beautifully in the universe, imprisoned at the last glance about your departure which I expelled inhumanely. I could have looked at you full of pity, begging for longing to return to greet you with a line of love that you had pointed at a fugitive like me. But how? If I'm the one who's been ignoring the thousands of words of love you've said all this time. Really, regret does exist. But it's no use for me to beg again, if you yourself have long ignored all my complaints about my love, which is now at the threshold.

Persistence of taste in hope

It was half a year ago...
And this feeling never goes anywhere. Even though we never exchanged news before, I still pray your name to the creator. The sharp look in your eyes, which are super-coloured, remain immediately in an incoherent hope. The gentle delivery of your words, and the warmth of your gaze is still tightly stored in my thoughts about you. Thousands of times I've seen the embodiment of your figure in the midst of the darkness of the conductor of the night, the heart is lonely, the conductor of the heart, sent me to a familiar figure that I still keep my feelings close. It's been a year, even though I've put my feelings aside, but I'm still reluctant to change your name. To you, the picky heart. Will you reciprocate my feelings? From me the figure you never lyric

I can not afford him to walk alone. I still want him, accompany me in every loneliness, and support every time I go home. I've been looking for him for a long time, looking for the long lost love from him for me, but I can't find anything. Because he has been towering for a long time, disappeared from my limitations in fighting

When you haven't started, why should you forget?