#EmotionalBlog

[realmsmidnight]

I write what she never said

I write for the ones who never got closure.The men who ache but never cry out loud.The quiet ones. The almosts.You’re not invisible here.You’re seen—softly, fully tenderly

@realmsmidnight

[tmarshconnors]

Thoughts from an Only Child at 3:30AM

Not every blog I write is about politics, tech, or society. Sometimes, it's just raw emotion. Just me sat here in the garden, 3:30am in the morning. Cool air brushing past me like a ghost of something long gone. I think. I reflect. And sometimes, I write.

Being an only child teaches you a few things. And not in the fairy tale way people imagine spoiled, pampered, coddled. No, it teaches you how to survive silently. It shows you what it means to be independent out of necessity, not out of choice.

When you grow up without siblings, you learn early on: you’ve got no backup. No brother to step in when someone’s giving you hell. No sister to confide in when your heart breaks at 17. You are your own team, your own lifeline. And that reality hardens you in places most people never even realise.

You notice things others overlook. Every smirk someone throws your way. Every twitch of discomfort. Every shoulder shrug, foot shuffle, eye roll  it's all data. You become fluent in body language, because when you’re alone, you have to read the room like your life depends on it. That’s how you know if someone’s real… or if they’re just wearing a mask.

You learn to make every moment count because you don't get the luxury of a “next time.” That friend you talk to might vanish tomorrow. That one phone call could be the last. So you pour yourself into it, into them. Because part of you knows it could all go silent again.

I’ve had many of those late, late nights. Trust me. Too many. Like right now. Just me, my thoughts, and a quiet world that doesn’t know or care that I’m still awake. No texts. No footsteps coming down the stairs. No laughter echoing from another bedroom. Just me.

Was there a time I wished I had siblings? Yeah, there was. Especially growing up. When I saw kids arguing and then hugging five minutes later, I envied that. When I saw brothers sticking up for each other, or sisters planning sleepovers together, I felt that ache. That little voice in my chest whispering, Why not me?

But now? No. I’m happy with the silence. It’s made me who I am. It’s not a life for everyone. But it’s mine. It’s lonely sometimes, sure. But it’s taught me resilience, empathy, observation, and above all self-reliance. You learn to handle yourself. Because, quite frankly, you have no other choice.

So this blog isn’t just a post. It’s a piece of my heart. A rare one. Not polished or political. Just honest. If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt alone  really alone  know that I get it. And know that being alone doesn’t mean being lost. It means being tested. Sharpened. Seasoned.

And if you're out there tonight, wide awake like me, staring into the dark... you're not the only one.

Mr. TMarsh-Connors

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

[transgenderer]

mortal sin of emotionalblogging

[happyfunnycoolgirl96]

BAWWWWW

[lockedthoughtsofabrokenchil-blog]

Day two, 03-21-18

Today I feel completely shut down, I feel like there isn’t anywhere that I fit in. I feel so distant from my friends and loved ones.

Past, I was close to my father, a real daddy’s girl. I’d smile when he’d get home and wake up whe he went to work, sleep next to him with my head laying on his stomach. He was a hero to me and I always felt safe. this is the part of my past where things got worse, my mom and dad had been fighting, they did it every night when we would go to bed. One day dad had enough, I guess. The mornings I would watch him get dressed for work, he was in the military at the time. He would get dress and I’d hear the sound of the car starting and the head lights dance across the white wall opposite side of the bedroom window. I would fall asleep knowing that daddy would soon arrive back home....one day, he didn’t come home. I waited and waited, day after day, I never gave up until my mom brought home a new man. Rodger, don’t get me wrong from what I remembered was a really nice guy, he soon took the place of the dad I thought no longer wanted me. He’d take us swimming, camping, we’d ride the fore wheeler with him. He’d buy us food and clothes, he had a house with chickens, an ostrich and dogs. He tucked us in and taught me how to pray before bed. He slept in the living room on the couch but at that age, the wonderful age of five and a half, I thought it was normal.

It was fun, we finally had a family again, but one night I had a strange dream where it was the house but it want the white and brown clean look it was. It was run down, black and blue. I went inside and found my siblings sitting beside my mom but she was nothing but bones and skin. She started eating my siblings and I was frozen in fear along with them. Finally after watching her finish the, off she came after me, it was enough to knock me out of shock and get me to run away, I ran out the door and found an owl chasing me now. The owl with a scratchy voice said, “those who love beware.” I woke up the next morning crying. I dried my tears and woke up my little brother, I didn’t want to be alone. We walked out, my brother turned on the T.V. And started watching cartoons. I woke up mom and went to wake up Rodger. My mom walked to the kitchen to get her coffee and get our cereal while I walked up beside the couch and climbed up top to wake Rodger up, but he didn’t wake up like he normally did. I sat on his belly and poked his face, still nothing. I opened his eye lids to see if that would work... nothing but his eyes looked misty. I finally looked up and called out to my mother that there was something wrong with Papa. She told me he was tired and to leave him alone while she got his medication ready. I agreed and sat on the floor with my little brother to enjoy the morning of cartoons and cereal. Tit was fine until mama started screaming and violently shaking papa, telling him to wake up. The next thing I remember was going there doors down to our neighbor, the lady that baby sat up a lot. I remember the snow and my mama’s crying face, the sirens from the cop cars and ambulance. I asked our babysitter where they went with mama and papa, she told me that in time those we love will be brought to heaven to be angels again, and that it is okay to cry because of the painful goodbyes but always remember them. At the time I didn’t understand... but than the funeral came.

The funeral, was filled with crying which made me cry, I remember my mama carrying me, it was time to say goodbye to the man that gave me hope of a normal family. I leaned in and kissed his cold hard cheek, it wasn’t the same warmth I remembered from him all I could do was cry harder. So many emotions; confusion, sadness, anger, but one thing I knew was I missed him so much.

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

When I said forever I meant it

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

It will always be too soon…. There is never enough time..

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

Not addictive enough apparently

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

You're not mine anymore

But I'm still a little bit yours

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

[thoughts-of-a-heartbroken-soul]

When was it over?

When was the moment you knew

That you were gonna walk out eventually?

It's still not over for me