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For every word I wrote, for every sentence I carefully pieced together that turned into full paragraphs, for every chapter I’ve poured my heart into—this one means the most. This is the chapter that holds everything I was too afraid to say out loud. The one where my feelings are laid bare, where my silence is finally given a voice. This is the chapter that carries the weight of all the love I kept tucked away, the thoughts I’ve replayed a hundred times in my mind but could never bring myself to speak.
This is the part where I stop pretending. Where the longing, the hope, the quiet kind of love I’ve carried for you finally spills out—not to beg for anything in return, but simply to be known.
Because if you ever read any part of me, let it be this one.
The one where you’ll know:14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLWgkhou2WB
14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrDOWjnLjoT
You were loved.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlz8heaYMPI
Deeply. Quietly. Honestly.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZI48PmAWev
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And maybe, just maybe, that love will reach you too.
I don’t intend to demand anything from you—and if ever it came across that way, please believe me when I say it was never my intention. I never meant to make you feel pressured or burdened by the weight of what I feel. My heart speaks only in honesty, not expectation. All I ever wanted was to express what’s been quietly growing inside me, not to ask for anything more than what you’re willing to give.
So if my words seem too much, or if my emotions ever feel overwhelming, know that they come from a place of sincerity, not demand. I only ever hoped you'd understand—not feel obligated.
“Am I not worth taking the risk?”
It’s a question that’s lingered quietly in the back of my mind—one I’ve tried so hard not to ask out loud. But it echoes in the silence between us, in the spaces where your actions didn’t quite meet my hope. I know love isn’t always easy, and I understand that fear plays its part. But still, I wonder… was I not worth the uncertainty? The leap? The chance?
Not because I needed you to choose me blindly—but because a part of me believed that what we had, even in its quietest form, was something worth fighting for. Something worth the risk. And maybe it’s selfish of me to think that way. But I couldn’t help but wonder—Do you love me just enough for us to stay friends…or are you afraid to love me more than that?
Because sometimes, it feels like you’re holding back—not because there’s nothing there, but because there’s too much you’re trying to keep in. And maybe being friends is safer, easier, less messy. But I can’t help but wonder—if we stripped away the fear, the timing, the silence… would there be something more waiting beneath it all?
I guess what I’m really asking is:14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZbU36rVWZb
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Is your love a boundary or a fear?14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2hFrAJGGAR
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A line you drew… or one you’re scared to cross
You're right—sometimes your words don’t match the way you act.
You say you care, but you keep your distance.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuTBpYgniLQ
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You say you're here, yet you disappear when it matters.
You tell me I’m important, but you treat me like I’m easy to forget.
And I try to understand—I really do. Maybe you’re confused. Maybe you’re scared. Maybe you just don’t know how to love someone out loud. But it still hurts… because I was willing to believe your words, until your actions made me question if they were ever meant for me in the first place.
You said you’d make it up to me.
You said you’d try.
You said you’d be there.
So where are you now?
Because I waited. Quietly, patiently, even when it hurts. I held on to those words like they meant something—like I still meant something. But days passed. Then weeks. And now, the silence speaks louder than anything you promised.
It’s not just about broken words. It’s about the space you left behind…
The one I kept hoping you’d return to.
Sure, maybe I’m a coward now—because I can’t bring myself to tell you what I feel anymore, because the words that once came so easily now get stuck in my throat. Back then, opening up to you felt natural. Safe. Like breathing. Now, it feels like walking on glass, afraid that saying too much might shatter whatever’s left between us. It’s not that the feelings are gone. If anything, they’ve only grown—deeper, quieter, heavier. But maybe I’ve been hurt enough to fear being vulnerable again.
Maybe I’m just scared that if I open up this time… you won’t catch me.
You apologized—but why does it feel so empty? 14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc4uTONwrji
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You said you’re sorry, but if I’m being honest… I couldn’t feel it.
Not in your words, and definitely not in your actions. Because if you truly meant it, wouldn’t you try to make things right? Wouldn’t you show up—not just say you will? Wouldn’t your apology be followed by effort, not distance?
It’s hard to believe the sincerity of your “sorry” when everything else you do tells me I wasn’t worth staying for. And maybe that’s what hurts more than anything—the apology that sounded right but felt hollow. Because I didn’t just want to hear that you were sorry…
I wanted to feel that you cared.
But then again, I know you have your own personal battles to fight, struggles that weigh heavily on your heart and mind. I understand that sometimes life throws challenges at us that are hard to face, and I certainly don’t want to be another burden adding to the weight you’re already carrying. I don’t want to cause you more pain or make things harder for you. The last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed or trapped because of me. I respect your space and your need to deal with whatever you’re going through in your own time and in your own way.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXwy6jvxtVn
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Even though it hurts sometimes, I want to believe that your silence isn’t because you don’t care, but because you’re trying to protect yourself from breaking even more. And while it’s hard not to feel lonely or forgotten, I’d rather see you heal and find peace than rush you or force anything that isn’t ready to happen.
So, I’ll be here quietly, hoping for your happiness—hoping that one day, when you’re ready and when your heart feels lighter, you’ll find your way back. Until then, I’ll keep holding space for you without adding to the storm you’re already facing.
But the question is—if the roles were reversed, if you were in my position, carrying this same mix of hope and hurt, would you be willing to wait as patiently as I have?
Would you be willing to hold space for someone else’s pain without adding to it?
Would you choose understanding over frustration?14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZc4rEtlns5
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Compassion over resentment?
And more importantly, would you still believe in the possibility of something more, even when it feels uncertain and distant?
Because love isn’t always easy or clear-cut.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaSbwGJrrH9
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Sometimes it asks us to be patient when we want to rush, to be gentle when we want to push, and to keep faith even when doubt creeps in.
So, I wonder—if you were me, would you do all that too?
I hate how you can keep everything inside, like your silence is some kind of armor—like it’s easier for you to bury what you feel than to let it out. I hate how you choose to do nothing, even when I can see it in your eyes… even when your heart is screaming for something more. You want it too—I know you do. But you won’t fight for it. You won’t reach out. And maybe that’s what hurts the most—knowing you feel something, but watching you pretend you don’t.
I hate you for that…
But I don’t.
Because beneath all this frustration, all this pain—I still love you.
And loving you means feeling everything all at once: the longing, the anger, the sadness, the tenderness. It means breaking over and over again in the silence you leave behind, and still choosing you… even when it hurts.
And I can’t do anything—not because I don’t want to fight for this, but because every time I try to initiate a real, honest conversation about us, you shut down. You turn away. You do what you want instead, like the words I say don’t carry the same weight for you as they do for me. I’ve tried—God knows I’ve tried—to speak from the heart, to tell you what I feel, what I need, what I hope for. But no matter how honest I am, no matter how softly or clearly I express myself, you never truly open up in return. You keep your walls up. You leave me standing there with nothing but silence, or half-answers, or avoidance.
And because of that…
I started hiding the parts of me that I once wanted to share with you—the pieces I thought you'd understand, maybe even love. The things I hoped would make you see me, really see me. But how could I keep showing you my heart when you kept turning your back on it?
So I tucked away my softness. My excitement. My vulnerability.
Not because I stopped feeling it—but because you never gave me the space to feel safe showing it, once again.
And now those parts of me you were meant to see… stay hidden, while I wonder if you ever really wanted to see them at all.
Falling in love with my best friend—it’s the worst kind of ache, yet the most beautiful kind of love at the same time. It’s a kind of love that feels safe and terrifying all at once. Because while you cherish what you have, you silently ache for what you wish it could be.
And that tug-of-war between holding on and letting go?
That’s where the real heartbreak lives.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHxuvhUphPi
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So I apologize—if I chose to keep parts of myself hidden, if I became quieter, more distant, or harder to read when it comes to you. It's not out of resentment. It's not because I care less. It's because this is my way of coping—with what happened, and with everything I still feel but can no longer say.
Just like you, I have my own way of protecting the parts of me that still ache, that still long, that still hope in silence. And if you ever notice that I seem more like myself around others, that I laugh more freely or speak more openly, while around you I seem guarded or unsure—it’s not because I’ve changed completely. It’s because when I’m around you, I don’t know how to be myself without unraveling. I don’t know how to stand beside you without feeling like I might break.
Because the truth is, being near you still stirs up everything I’ve tried to hide.
And right now, I don’t know how to look at you without my heart showing.
