Somewhere I Kept You

  Sometimes, the hardest goodbyes are the ones never said aloud.                                           Letting go is hard Anyone who has loved deeply knows that. But letting go of someone who was never officially yours is something else entirely. It's like trying to mourn a ghost that no one else saw. There's no breakup, no announcement, and no dramatic scene. Just you, silently hurting, while the rest of the world moves on. This is for the ones who loved in silence, who stayed in the shadows of "almost," and who carried the weight of unspoken feelings. Because sometimes, what we lose without ever holding leaves the deepest mark. The Beginning That Was Never Named It often starts innocently, doesn't it? Maybe you met them through work, or a friend, or a moment you didn't even realize would become significant later. You weren't looking for anything—but then they made you la...

It’s been three years since we started talking. Three years of shared words, missed calls , long silences, and small moments that never felt small. And in all that time, we’ve only met twice. But this second time  It felt different. Not in a loud, firework kind of way. It was quiet. Calm. It felt like peace . Being around you didn’t feel like an effort. No pretending. No rushing. No walls. Just two people existing side by side in a space that felt warm and familiar. And maybe I haven’t said this out loud yet But I like you. Not in the way movies scream love at the top of their lungs, But in the way a heart beats softer around someone who feels safe . Still, I’m in no hurry. I don’t want to rush this or force it into something it’s not ready to be. Maybe we’re not meant to be lovers . Maybe we’ll never call each other “mine.” But maybe, just maybe, we’ll always be something deeper. Best friends . Safe spaces . Two people who show up for each other, even in the quiet. If nothing els...

Sorry. It's just a word, but it often feels like the heaviest one to say or hear. It’s a simple phrase we all use when we’ve hurt someone or wronged them in some way, hoping that it will mend the rift and heal the wound. But the truth is, sorry doesn’t always change anything. It doesn’t undo what’s been done. It doesn’t fix what’s been broken. The pain doesn’t disappear just because someone says they’re sorry. When trust is shattered, when a heart is left in pieces, an apology may provide temporary relief, but it rarely provides lasting healing . The hurt, especially from betrayal , lingers like a shadow, dark and unwavering. It’s something you feel, deep inside, no matter how many times you hear that word. Apologies, however well-intended, cannot replace what’s been lost. Trust that has been broken doesn’t magically rebuild with a few heartfelt words. You can say sorry a thousand times, but the damage remains. The wounds may seem to heal on the surface, but deep down, they stay r...

Some people remember your love story not because they care but because they think it’s a good joke. They saw you in love, and they saw you fall apart. But now, they see your silence as weakness. They test it with laughter. They bring up his name, knowing it still stings, and act like it’s harmless. But healing doesn’t mean you forget. It means learning how to stay quiet in a room full of people who mock what still breaks your heart . There was a time when his name made my whole face light up. When talking about him, I felt like breathing. Natural. When even the smallest thing, a call, a plan, a smile, had his name wrapped inside. Everyone around me knew. He wasn’t a secret. He was my person, and the world I built around him didn’t have walls. Friends saw us. Heard stories. Witnessed my love unfold like a diary they never had to open because I kept reading it out loud. But when we broke up, that diary didn’t just close. It burned. Pages turned to ash. And I… I went silent. A f...

  Dear Mooney, This letter is for everyone who waited for too long. You know waiting isn't always a quiet hope - sometimes, it's a slow ache you learn to carry alone. You spent too much time holding your breath, hoping he'd come back. Hoping that one day, the waiting would be worth it. That the silence between you two wasn't the end but a pause. That he'd finally choose you, like you had chosen him a thousand times in your heart. But waiting is cruel kind of love. It doesn't show up with flowers or promises. It show up with empty days and night filled with "what if's". It's not patience - it's a slow unravelling of hope, thread by thread, until all that's left is the weight of what never came. You waited for signs - texts that never came, calls that never rang, eyes that didn't meet yours anymore. You waited for words that got stuck in his throat or for moments that slipped through your fingers like sand. You waited, hoping to be en...