lunaveiled

[lunaveiled]

We were standing at the edge of a cliff, the ocean stretching endlessly in front of us. The sky was painted in soft gradients of blue - pale at the horizon, deepening into midnight as my eyes drifted upward. The stars were scattered like whispers, but instead of shining white, they glowed faintly blue, as if they had borrowed pieces of the sea.

The air felt cool, almost sweet, wrapping around us like silk. Beside me was someone who didn’t need to hold my hand to make me feel safe, his presence alone was like the tide, steady and eternal. I glanced at him, and his eyes mirrored the same infinite blue as the ocean below - sometimes stormy, sometimes calm, but always filled with love.

And in that moment, love wasn’t red, wasn’t fiery, wasn’t burning.

It was blue.

It was vast, like the sea.

It was infinite, like the sky.

It was quiet, like the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

It felt less like falling in love and more like floating - drifting between the stars and the water, held by something beyond words. And then I realized, my love isn’t the written kind.

Mine is the unwritten, the ethereal one - not consuming me, but making me limitless.

And if I could choose anything in that moment, I would choose to drown in those eyes, and let my soul slip free.

[lunaveiled]

“Yes yes, he said he’ll be back at 11.”

“Okay, so that’s our deadline. We need to be out before he returns.”

“Are you sure about the time? You didn’t mishear it like last time, right?”

“Oh come on! You guys scolded me so bad I couldn’t sleep for two days. I made sure this time—it’s 11 for sure.”

“Alright, alright. So, he’s probably gone to the safehouse to pick up the packets. That gives us roughly... how much time?”

“It’s 10:50 now, so we have like 12 hours and 10 minutes before he gets back, right Olive?”

“Umm... yeah, I guess—”

“Why are you doing that? You said you were sure, didn’t you?”

“Um... yeah. It must be right.”

“Olive. What exactly did you hear him say? Did he say 11 AM or 11 PM? He’s not coming back in ten minutes, is he?”

“Umm... there was an M, for sure... he said 11-something-M.”

“OLIVEEEEEEE.”

[lunaveiled]

"We are..."

"WRITERSSS 🖋️✨"

"What should we dooo?"

"WRITEEE 📚🔥"

"What do we not dooo?"

"WRITEEE 😭"

[lunaveiled]

"I love you."

"No, you don’t" she said shyly, her voice small as she gently slapped his thigh.

"Wait—how did you know that was a lie?"

"i didnt"

"What?"

"...What?"

[lunaveiled]

She looked into my eyes — fire burning in hers.

She was angry. But I could tell… she was fighting not to cry.

She didn’t say a word — but I knew she had a million things to.

Then she turned to the door, accidentally knocking over the glass on the table.

She didn’t flinch.

She didn’t look back.

Just paused for a moment… and walked out.

The glass shattered.

Big and small pieces scattered across the floor. One jagged shard landed right on my foot — sharp enough to make it bleed.

It cut me.

But not as much as her silence did.

It felt like the shards had pierced my heart instead.

And I could feel it bleeding.

With every step I took, the floor soaked in more red.

I glanced down — saw my reflection in one of the broken pieces.

Blurred.

Messy.

Broken.

I walked away from it all and climbed into the bathtub.

The dry tub creaked as I laid down.

My foot throbbed — but my head was too much of a mess to care.

I just stared at the ceiling, not really seeing anything. Just… stuck.

But the pain grew worse — as if the blood was drawing the glass deeper into the wound.

I sat up, stared at the blood-soaked shard for a moment, and slowly pulled it out.

The bleeding worsened.

I tore a piece of my shirt and wrapped it around the wound.

Then lay back again.

And all I could think of… was her.

I opened the tap, letting the water drip slowly, and sank deeper into her memory.

I knew I was wrong. I knew it.

But I had a reason.

I did it for her.

I know I shouldn’t defend myself. But…

Wasn’t walking out like that—

Leaving me in the dark—

Cruel?

Shouldn’t she have at least yelled at me?

Told me what’s next?

Wasn’t that silence too brutal?

More than four hours has passed. I hadn’t moved.

Hadn’t opened my eyes.

The silence thickened — so loud it almost had weight.

Until a scream shattered it.

I opened my eyes. She was standing there at the edge of the tub, horrified.

I tried to stand, panicked, but then I saw the water.

Red.

Bloody red.

From my foot.

Before I could explain, she collapsed.

I jumped out and ran to her, lifting her into my arms-

Feet crunching over broken glass.

Again. And again. And again.

But I didn’t stop.

I laid her on the bed and scrambling for my phone.

I called Ren — not for me, for her.

Then I dropped to the floor beside her, clutched my knees, and broke.

Tears flooding the silence that had once swallowed me whole.

[lunaveiled]

dear diary,

i wasn’t planning to write about him today. honestly, i thought i was done thinking about it. but here i am. again.

it’s been almost a month since he disappeared completely.

no popping up randomly in my class corridors with a drink i never took a sip out of, no calls, no messages, no staring at me for a little too long and acting like he just didn’t give me chills.

i mean, i should be happy. just a month ago, i was begging him to stop stalking me-even though he really didn’t cross the line anywhere. He was tiptoeing around my boundaries.

he was kind of a stalker, but a respectful one, i guess.

he wouldn’t pester me if i wasn’t in a good mood, or force me to take anything he brought for me, or do anything that made me uncomfortable.

but he was an idiot sometimes-a cute idiot, i would say.

he would run up to my class on the fifth floor with a drink every single day just for me to refuse it.

i started to feel bad after some days, but still, i didn’t ask him to do that for me. why would i give him false hope?

and just like that, one day i came out of class ready to refuse his drink with a new dialogue i came up with - something that wouldn’t hurt his feelings but still made it clear i have boundaries.

but i didn’t get to use that one.

he wasn’t there. no drink. no him.

i was relieved and went back home.

but i highly doubt if i really was relieved - or was i lying to myself?

i don’t wanna miss him, but my body is weirdly craving him.

and these thoughts - like maybe he’s in danger, or maybe he’s sick - keep popping up in my head.

and like that, it’s been one whole month. no news on what happened to him.

i kinda always knew this trick would mess up my mind.

giving me too much attention and then taking it away to make me crave it.

but looks like i’m falling for the oldest trick in the book.

am i being manipulated into liking him???

oh shit—

[lunaveiled]

Its concerning how complete yet vulnerable the human mind is. There are billions of things a mind can do countless nerves firing, opening a million tabs at once. The things it can imagine are fascinating, and the fact that every single mind sees the same thing differently is even more so.

But here’s the thing, even with all that strength, all those functions, the entire system can be wrecked by something as small as a word, an action, a feeling. One tiny “bug” can shut it all down.

Like… if we were built with this much capacity, why didn’t we get a proper security feature?

[lunaveiled]

"Oh shit, you’re bleeding!"

"Where?? Where am I bleeding?"

"Here - I mean, can’t you feel it? Doesn’t it hurt?"

"Umm… no?"

"Look at you!! Your hands and chest are drenched in blood!"

"Oh, this? Don’t worry. It’s okay. I’m totally fine. It isn’t mine—"

"WHAT?!!!"

"Why aren’t you relieved?"

"DID YOU REALLY THINK THAT WOULD MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?? WHO TF DID YOU KILL??"

"Hehe."

"HE-HE??? ARE YOU OKAY DUDE??"

[lunaveiled]

I hate you.

I hate you to the point I don’t even remember why I loved you.

I hate you so much I want to stab a pen right into your skull.

I hate you so deeply that I want to make you cry, beg, bleed.

I hate you so much I can’t believe you made me fall for you.

I hate you so much I don’t know how to stop hating you…

Hating you for making me desperate for your love.

For making me love you so deeply and then breaking my heart.

For making me build a world for us to exist in, only for you to crumble it down like it meant nothing to you.

I hate you…

I hate you so fucking much that my soul no longer belongs to my body.

I hate you so much…

But at the same time, I don’t know if I can ever stop loving you.

Maybe this doesn’t make any sense.

Love and hate might be literal opposites.

Maybe they can’t coexist.

But how do I explain this feeling of still wanting to love you,

even when I know damn well I shouldn’t?

How do I explain hating you - just so I can stop loving you?

[lunaveiled]

Romanticizing even a little bit of everything… might actually change you in ways you never imagined.

I used to be someone who was insecure about everything - from my marks to my talent to how I looked. I hated everything I was. But then, I started to write.

I didn’t just list out my insecurities like cold facts.

I gave them life.

I wrote them like they breathed.

And then I made my own creations - my characters - love them.

I made them romanticize my insecurities.

Probably because I was too scared to confront them myself.

Slowly, gently, I made those characters fall in love with their flaws — not just romantically, but respectfully. I wrote scenes where someone told them how much they adored those tiny, hidden things… secretly wishing someone would say the same to me.

I made them cry.

Cry and cry until they finally accepted those pieces of themselves — wiping away the teardrops right off the pages.

Acceptance isn’t easy. And I’m not done yet.

There are a million more steps for me to climb.

But at least I’m not at the starting point anymore.

At least I’ve moved forward.

At least I’m ahead of the version of me that once hated herself.

And that’s something.

[lunaveiled]

"This is the last entry in this diary.

A farewell not just to the book — but to him.

Some stories are meant to stay half-written, finishing them might break loose the hell itself."

[lunaveiled]

You're allowed to love what it was… without needing to pretend it still is.

It’s way better than lying to yourself again and again.

Maybe it was just a chapter written in italics - something that will always feel special when you read back to it.

So don’t tear it out.

Or act like it was the whole story.

Read it.

Turn the page.

Keep going.

And remember...you can always go back and reread it, but never expect it to be the only page in your whole book.

[lunaveiled]

Someone tell me how to handle feeling like everyone is soo close to the finish line when I am just now gearing up?

[lunaveiled]

I have the sword to protect you,

but not the crown to have you.

I stand behind the curtains

while you sit on the throne.

Loving you has never been a right,

but protecting you was a vow.

And I’d take a thousand wounds

if it meant you'd never have to bleed.

And when every wound heals...

I would still be waiting here,

ready to bleed for you again.

[lunaveiled]

When he said her name, it didn’t feel like a word.

It felt like being held - carefully, like he was afraid it might break if he wasn’t gentle enough.

Each syllable landed soft, like he practiced it in silence a thousand times before saying it out loud.

And just him saying out her name felt like a soft confession. Like her name was something he use to cover up the "iloveyou" he was dying to say.

Like her name wasn’t just a name, but something sacred - something he didn’t dare bruise.

She wasn’t used to it sounding like that.

Like it mattered.

Like it had a heartbeat.

Like even the air around them leaned in, listening.

And for a second, she wondered - if her name could feel, would it blush under his voice?

[lunaveiled]

She was begging me to leave, but somehow her grip on my hands only grew stronger.

She said she lied to me - said she never loved me-

but her eyes were screaming the truth her lips couldn't admit.

Her trembling lips betrayed her, her tears wrecked her eyeliner and soaked into her dress.

She was pushing me away and pulling me in, all at once.

Telling me she hated me.

Telling me to go live the life I deserved.

But also making it impossible to go.

Not just physically-mentally, emotionally.

It was like she had my soul in her hands,

trying to protect it by holding it close, gripping it tighter…

not realizing she was crushing it.

She didn’t want me to leave.

We both knew it.

But we also knew that leaving was the only way to keep us both alive.

Not alive, exactly.

Just breathing. Just existing.

[lunaveiled]

How do you go from thinking of someone every day,

every hour,

every minute…

to only remembering their name when it drifts into your mind at 2AM?

How does it still make your chest ache - not because you miss them,

but because you stopped missing them?

How do you explain the guilt?

Not for leaving - but for healing?

Not for falling out of love - but for surviving it?

How do you carry the quiet grief

of forgetting someone

who once felt unforgettable?