crumbling under my bedsheets, holding my own hand, building an imaginary bubble around me, listening to the songs that quiet down my soul, I forgave myself. Or at least, tried to. For all the lies I've told, for the scars I'm responsible for, for the dreams I let myself lose, for the questions I answered wrong, for the books I procrastinated for months, for the chances I missed because I hesitated, for the things I backed off from doing worrying how people would perceive them and the time I wasted to please others, for the kind hearts I hurt trying to look cool, for the people I betrayed, for the self-sabotage and the plans I didn't keep up with, for the journals I stopped writing, for all my blessings I'm ungrateful for, for all the truth I didn't tell, for the sins I gave control over mind, for trying to copy other people, for pretending to like things I hate and acting like I hate the things I like, for trusting the wrong people and letting that turn me into an untrustworthy person, for ignoring red flags, for stepping over my own self respect to make other feel better about themselves and most of all, I forgave myself for breaking my own heart. And if I do end up making these mistakes again, I'll forgive myself all over again. Because as Joybell above said, that's what love is like.

That's exactly what love is.

"If you donot tell the truth about yourself,you cannot tell it about other people"......this quote is the reason I let people read what I write and I share my works...because in them lies my truth...

Inner peace

“Hollowness: that I understand. I'm starting to believe that there isn't anything you can do to fix it. That's what I've taken from the therapy sessions: the holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mold yourself through the gaps”

― Paula Hawkins, The Girl on the Train

We all need forgiveness
@blurrylife

For head kisses always

“It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithlessand therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.”

― Oriah Mountain Dreamer

In love with this writing🖤🖤🖤

Okay maybe cuddles too

PEOPLE AREN'T HOMES
Child, why did no one ever teach you that you cannot turn people into homes? People are rivers, ever changing, ever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put inside them. Still, your home does have a heartbeat. But it isn't one locked in anyone else's chest. Just look inside your own.