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The One Who Got Away

But that's the thing about life, right? It doesn't care about your plans. It doesn't stop to ask if you're ready or if you need more time. It just moves forward, dragging you along, leaving you scrambling to catch up. And now here I am, stuck in this awkward space between letting go and holding on, knowing that no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, it won't be me walking next to you. It's a cruel irony—knowing what you want, seeing it so close, but watching from a distance as someone else gets to live it.

And I guess, deep down, I knew. I knew that it wasn't going to happen. But there was always this tiny sliver of hope, a stubborn part of me that believed it could. That maybe, just maybe, you'd wake up one day and realize that I was right there, ready and willing. But that day never came, and now I'm left with nothing but these thoughts I can't shake. It's annoying, really, because how do you stop feeling something so strong? How do you let go of someone who feels like a part of you, even though you never really had them?

I want to be happy for you, I really do. I want to be the person who can smile and mean it when I say, "I'm glad you found someone who makes you happy." But I'm not there yet. I'm still tangled up in the 'what ifs' and 'could have been,' still hoping for a reality I know will never exist.

And the hardest part is knowing that, at the end of the day, you won't even know. You won't ever fully understand what you meant to me or how much it hurts to see you with him. Because I never told you. And it's my fault; it's on me. I don't blame you—I can't. Maybe I was scared; maybe I was just waiting for the "perfect moment" instead of allowing our perfect moment to happen.

Either way, it doesn't matter, and as much as I wish I could rewrite the ending, I'm not the writer this time.

And that's the hardest part—because, as a writer, I know how to create these stories and build worlds that don't exist. I get to choose who's happy, who gets hurt, who falls in love, and who loses. I can put together words to form the most beautiful images. I've really mastered that—except for this story. Our story.

I envision a million different ways it could have gone—a world where I was the one who renewed your faith in love, eased your hardest days, and brought sunshine to your cloudy skies. I was supposed to be the one who made you smile every day—the one who made you forget everything you'd been through. But those are just drafts of a story never meant to be told.

I thought I could pen my way out of this heartache, and if I wrote about it, it would make sense somehow. But this time, I'm just a character, an afterthought within the margins...

I really just said a bunch of words to say that I am truly happy for you; it's just that I wish it were me. 

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I just want to matter. I don't feel like I mean anything to anyone, at least not to people who aren't obligated to love me or deal with me in general.

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Unbalanced Scale of Love

Like so many, a perfectly imperfect love story unfolded in a quaint little town nestled amidst rolling hills and whispered secrets. It was a tale as old as time, one of choices and sacrifices, where the heart's desires clashed with the harsh realities of life. Like a delicate balance, this love teetered on the edge of joy and heartbreak, forever altering the lives entwined within its grasp.

The town was home to many, but none as radiant as the spirit known as "Krista." Her beauty and charm were the talks of the city, and she had captured the hearts and eyes of many. However, she only found interest in two men - the dreamer and the emotionally intelligent/compassionate individual.

Alexander, the dreamer, had eyes like galaxies and a heart that burned with a love that knew no bounds. He believed their connection would surpass all obstacles, and his hope grew with each passing day. Alexander was also a kind soul with a gentle touch and possessed a tender love that sought to embrace her every flaw. He cherished their shared moments, and his affections flowed like a tranquil river, offering solace and stability. Alexander often surprised her when she felt down with small gestures of love, like poetry and other artsy pieces. He saw in her the promise of a life filled with comfort and security, where they could weather life's storms together easily. He also saw adventure and passion where they could chase/achieve their dreams together, taking her on long walks while pointing out the beauty in the world and how

The other guy, Jeremy, possessing a compassionate love that nurtured her essence, cherished their exchanged vulnerabilities. His affection flowed like a calm river, offering solace and support; while understanding the depths of her heart profoundly. His words and actions echoed his respect for her choices, creating a safe space for her to explore her heart. Jeremy's love offered guidance and support like a steady lighthouse amidst turbulent seas.

Krista was caught in a whirlwind of emotions as the dance of love unraveled. Torn between the alluring passion of the dreamer's love and the respect/loyalty offered by Jeremy, her heart lay fragmented, caught between desire and the fear of breaking what had become familiar. Krista's mind was filled with thoughts of the future, contemplating which path would lead to a happy and fulfilling life.

Their friends, witnesses to this delicate dance, watched with anticipation and sorrow. Whispers of love and longing filled the air, intertwined with unspoken regrets and unfulfilled dreams. They knew a decision was imminent and would leave someone's heart shattered in its wake.

And then, in a moment that would forever alter their intertwined destinies, Krista chose. With his gentle love and steady presence, Jeremy became the anchor she sought to weather life's storms. Though lacking the fiery intensity that had stirred her soul, his passion promised stability and security. She knew that she would have a happy life full of love and comfort with him.

As the words left her lips, Alexander felt his world crumble. The dreamer's heart shattered, his eyes reflecting the pain of unrequited love. The delicate balance tilted in that instant, and he stood on the precipice of heartbreak. He was sure they had something special and were meant to be together. His dreams of a passionate and adventurous life with her crumbled in front of him.

The town held its breath, caught between the joy of newfound love and the ache of a broken heart. Whispers of empathy filled the air, mingling with the weight of unspoken sorrow. Hearts wept for the dreamer, whose love, though fierce and unwavering, had been cast aside.

But life, with its relentless onward march, offered no solace. With a heavy heart and wounded spirit, Alexander retreated into the depths of his dreams, where the memories of their fleeting moments lingered like ghosts. In the wake of her decision, he learned to rebuild, to mend the fragments of his heart, forever marked by the love that slipped through his fingers. He knew he had to move on and find a new path in life, but his heart still ached for her.

The bittersweet love story continued, forever etched in the memories of those who witnessed it. Krista and Jeremy navigated their chosen path, building a life rooted in stability and familiarity. Yet, a trace of longing remained in the air, a whispered reminder of the dreamer's love left unrequited.

Through the years, the town changed, but the memories of their love story endured. Alexander had gone on to chase his dreams elsewhere, but he remembered a love that had burned bright within him. As for Krista and Jeremy, their love had blossomed into a beautiful life filled with family and friends. They knew their love story was imperfect, but they were grateful.

—though the dreamer's heart remained broken, he carried the courage to chase his dreams, even if they slipped through his grasp like fleeting stardust in the night sky.

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As I stand in the quiet corners of my room, surrounded by the visions of memories and the remnants of the past, I find myself lost in packing. The suitcase lies open, waiting to be filled with the pieces of my life. Yet, in this moment of transition, a soft but familiar voice surfaces, trying to pull me into a conversation.

I try to ignore that voice as I continue folding clothes and gathering my belongings, but a child appears as the voice continues and gets louder. Annoyed, I looked over and immediately started crying. "Why are you here?" I ask. Ignoring me but with questioning eyes, the child asks, "Will I ever be understood?"

Pausing from packing, I turn to him and say, "I don't know." "The world is crazy, but understanding often begins within you. As long as you understand yourself, that's all that really matters. It's a journey we navigate, much like what I'm trying to do with packing everything."

With a sigh, I resume packing, and of course, the kid has more questions. "Will I ever be happy?"

"I mean, I hope so," I reply as I stop for a second. "I don't know how I'm supposed to know the answer to that; you're asking some tough questions." The child responds, "You're older, so I just thought that you would have all the answers." I couldn't even be mad with that response, so I tried to answer his question better, "Happiness is hard, but for me, at least, I find it in the joy I bring others. That or even when it comes to helping people achieve things that they don't believe they can do themselves. I know it probably seems like I'm always there for everyone else, but remember that true happiness lies in the acts of kindness and the beauty of watching others thrive, no matter our circumstances."

The suitcase awaits completion, but another question comes. "Is everything that I dream about going to become a reality?"

Closing the suitcase gently, I turn to him with a heartfelt expression. "I'm sorry that I don't have all the answers, but life is unpredictable and chaotic. Your dreams may shift, but I want you to hold onto them. Never give up on the dreams that fill your heart, even if they seem impossible to reach."

And then, the most complex question surfaces. "Do we love ourselves?"

What kind of question is this?

I sit down amidst my packed belongings. "We do, in pieces," I admit. "Some parts of us shine bright with love and acceptance, and others, where it's nothing but darkness and shadows. Then there's an eternal flame of anger/pain slowly burning all the good parts, and I can't put it out because I don't even know what's fueling it or why I feel that way. — You're still young, though, so you have time to fix everything, and I'm not saying that because you're broken, but because you'll enjoy life better, trust me."

Surrounded by the belongings of our past and the uncertainties of the future, we share a mutual understanding.

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Her

She stood as a muse in the complex flurry of emotions, a beautiful, angelic masterpiece of perfection painted with the strokes of hope and the hues of imagination. A woman unattainable, existing in a place beyond the reach of actual connection. She moved through life like a melody, leaving an unforgettable impression on the corridors of the heart.

She was a puzzle, a mystery that begged to be unraveled, a collection of moments etched in time that intertwined with the fabric of fantasies. Yet, reality took over, and the weight of unrequited emotions, a burden carried on shoulders heavy with the ache of longing. The unspoken truth lay bare – she could never be genuinely possessed, for her heart danced in the arms of another.

The torment lay not in her choice but in the silent echoes of one-sided emotions rumbling within the hollow chambers of a restless soul. The pain was not hers to bear but a self-inflicted wound, a consequence of allowing the heart to wander beyond the boundaries of reason and logic.

Love, a concept as elusive as a fleeting dream, became the silent orchestrator of this internal symphony. Yet, in the contradiction of emotions, the realization dawned that perhaps love was nothing more than a creation of the mind. It is merely an illusion - a basket woven with threads of desire - that promises to provide relief in this desert called life.

The fault lay not in her magnetism but in the power of a creative mind to mold fragments of reality into a masterwork of attachment. The boundaries blurred, and lines were crossed as the imagination painted a canvas where she was more than a muse. She became the protagonist in a story of love that was distant yet fulfilling. It was everything and more—

Yet, the realization that love, for the beholder, was a construct of the mind did little to satisfy the affliction. The heart, ever rebellious, still clinging to the illusion, refusing to accept the absence of real feeling. In the realm of creativity, where the mind held the power to invoke happiness and love, it was a bitter irony that the creator found himself entrapped in the web of his own making. Why can't he be free? Is it not his creation — unthink it, and it'll all go away.

Regret, a bitter aftertaste, lingered in the air. He realized that his discipline had faltered, and he did it again — boundaries had crumbled, and the heart had taken liberties beyond its authority. The outcome was the requiem of a creator looking at the wreckage with disappointment; these are the consequences of playing with the delicate strings of love.

As everything unfolded, the woman moved gracefully through life, oblivious to the storm raging within the confines of a conflicted heart. For her, life was life, but for him, it was fantasy, a bittersweet reminder that in the quest for love, one could lose oneself in the maze of one's creation, again.

Love isn't real, but with my imagination, I can make anything real. —Lil Uzi Vert

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You found somebody?

I found some too.

She has everything I need, but she's not you.

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Life can often leave us feeling empty like there is a void in our souls that we struggle to fill. We yearn for a more profound sense of purpose or fulfillment that may seem elusive, but this is a challenge many people can relate to as we navigate the complexities of existence.

During such moments of emptiness, we may encounter events that seem to rob us of our joy and happiness. Life can appear to take away the things we hold most dear, leaving us feeling lost and hopeless. This pain can be all-consuming, as our hearts have been shattered into numerous pieces. However, even in the darkest moments, a glimmer of hope can always guide us through our sorrows.

Life can be messy and challenging, testing our resilience and making us question our strengths. We face trials and tribulations that push us to our limits. During these difficult times, it is essential to rely on the support of our loved ones and remember that we are not alone.

As we journey through life, we begin to understand that our scars and wounds are not signs of weakness but rather badges of courage. They show that we have faced adversity and overcome the other side stronger. Through the cracks in our souls, our resilience shines through, helping us grow and transform.

Sometimes we stumble and fall, but we must remember that every setback is an opportunity to rise again. In these vulnerable moments, we discover our inner strength and capacity for self-transformation.

We can use the emptiness as a catalyst for self-reflection and growth. We cultivate self-awareness and acceptance by examining our hopes, dreams, and fears. When faced with adversity, we can respond with resilience and determination to reclaim what is rightfully ours.

We find solace in our collective struggles as imperfect beings on a shared journey. Every experience, whether positive or negative, contributes to the tapestry of our lives, painting a picture of resilience and growth. So let us embrace the messiness of life and discover the transformative power within ourselves.

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I never thought I’d be talking from this perspective—

I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’m tired of learning lessons and being sad. I miss my old self, the naive me who was always peppy and giddy. Can I get into my season of happiness and prosperity already? I know that my current status and situation aren’t what my life is supposed to be and that greatness was my destiny from the beginning; however, I will be 100% honest and admit that I’m struggling even to see the end of this tunnel. Everything negative seems never-ending, and I need something positive. If I need to change, I’m willing to do whatever it takes because I can’t take any more of this. I’m on my last leg, and this is the fourth quarter with two minutes left. It’s do or die, and I’m dying, but I’m not trying to, hence fighting for so long. I trust you, but please, I’m begging you.

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I'm one of those people that can't let go. If I've had fun with you once, I will text you on your birthday for at least the next five years. If we were friends in elementary school and haven't talked since, I guarantee I still know your middle name, favorite food, and color. If I've ever had a crush, it never goes away; it fades. I will always tell stories about great times with people I haven't seen in years. If you turn down my offer to get drinks and catch up ten times, I promise I will still ask an 11th time. If we fight and you block me, I will find a way to check in on you anyway to make sure you're okay. If you've hurt me in every way imaginable, I still won't throw dirt on your name because if I ever cared, it was real, and I could never break that loyalty to you. I know that sounds crazy, but that's me.

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Almost is the worst way to love someone, and our almost will forever haunt me. I'll never be the same.