• Personal

    How the Phone Call Ruined My Peace

    I was not expecting any of this.

    It all started with a random Discord message. Funny enough, he keeps on coming back. So when I saw his message around 6am, I was surprised. I was still awake, so we started chatting. Then he asked if he could call me that night. I didn’t think much of it. I gave him my number. We texted a little bit, then I slept.

    10PM came. Then suddenly it’s 1AM. That is probably the longest I have ever talked to a guy on the phone. And the weird part? It did not even feel long.

    We laughed. a lot. The kind of laugh where you suddenly forget you are talking to someone you have technically never met. Like the kind of conversation where you were smiling without even realizing. He has this personality that matches mine, but he is sensible too. He asked a lot about me. Not just the usual questions about my life. It felt nice that someone wanted to know me.

    Also, his voice. I don’t know why it is so nice to hear. It is calm, cute, and comforting. I caught myself smiling just because of his voice.

    The following day, he texted good morning. We talked again. He called me again at night.

    Then the following day, he texted good morning and called me during his lunch break like he promised, and we chatted until around 2pm.

    After that… Silence.

    Around 9PM he apologized because work was really busy. Thirty minutes later, he texted that he had just gotten home. I simply replied that I had eaten dinner.

    And that was it. No more messages.

    Today, I caught myself waiting. waiting for my phone to light up. Waiting for him. I even sent him a playful good morning message teasing him that he probably is still not done eating.

    No reply. Maybe he is really busy. Maybe he is just… him.

    Because even before all of this, he was already the type to disappear and suddenly come back like nothing happened.

    What really gets me, though, is looking back at our discord conversation before the call. I laughed it off. It caught me off guard. Reading my responses made me laugh and cringe at the same time. Poor guy thought I rejected him. I was not rejecting him. I was just surprised. My brain stopped functioning for a while. I did not know what to say.

    I think what is happening now is that I am realizing something. I like talking to him too. A lot. I miss the conversations more than anything. I miss laughing. I miss hearing him tease me. I miss that voice that somehow became comforting after only a few calls.

    It is funny how someone can go from being another alliance mate in a game to becoming the person whose notification you are secretly hoping to see.

    I don’t know where this is going. Maybe nowhere. Maybe somewhere. But I do know this. For the first time in a long time, I found myself talking to someone for hours without getting bored. I found myself smiling at my phone. And for the first time in a long time, I am actually looking forward to hearing someone’s voice again. I am glad those conversations happened.

    So for now… I will wait. Not because I have to. But I genuinely hope this is not the end of the story.

    Maybe tomorrow my phone will light up.

  • Personal

    From Your Future Healed Self

    Sometimes the weight gets too heavy, and the silence too loud.
    This letter isn’t just words — it’s me reaching toward a version of myself I don’t feel yet, but hope to meet one day.
    She’s stronger, softer, and no longer breaking.

    This is for her —
    and for the me who is trying to get there.

    Hey love,
    
    Remember where you are right now.
    
    I remember the ache that sat heavy in your chest every morning.
    
    I remember missing him so much it felt like something inside you broke.
    
    I want you to know — you didn’t do anything wrong. You loved in the only way you knew how: fully, honestly, quietly. That mattered.
    
    And even though it hurt like hell to let go, it was an act of self-love you didn’t fully understand at the time. You were choosing peace, even before it felt peaceful.
    
    I won’t lie to you — it took time. Some nights, the missing came in waves. But day by day, your heart softened. You stopped reaching for his name in your notifications. You stopped needing his voice to feel like you mattered.
    
    You found you again. Not the version of you that waited for messages, but the one who smiles without needing a reason. The one who loves softly, but never forgets her own worth.
    
    I'm proud of you. For every tear, every word you wrote, every day you got out of bed. You made it.
    
    And when you're ready, love will find you again — the kind that stays, and meets you where you are.
    
    But for now, just breathe. You're doing better than you think.
    
    I’m here.
    
    Always, You

    If you’re reading this and you’re hurting too — you’re not alone. Some losses don’t come with closure. Some love doesn’t get to grow. But healing isn’t about forgetting — it’s about finding peace in remembering.
    And maybe one day, we’ll look back at this moment and whisper to ourselves: “Thank you for holding on.” 

  • Personal

    That Ride I Thought Would Be My Last

    Today gave me a real scare. I was on my way somewhere when suddenly the vehicle I was riding started swerving. Not just once—but several times. It felt like we were seconds away from tipping over. It was going way too fast for comfort, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

    I froze. My hands were cold, my heart was racing. I looked out the window, and for a moment—just one moment—I told myself:

    “Lord, if this is it… don’t bring me back. Just let it be quick.”

    That thought scared me even more than the ride.

    I kept looking at the driver, trying to make sense of what was happening. There was nothing on the road to avoid. No sudden obstacle. No sharp turn. That’s when it hit me—did he fell asleep? He didn’t brake. He didn’t swerve to avoid anything. It just… happened.

    I tried to stay calm, but I could feel my hands shaking and my breath getting shallow. That kind of fear—the kind where you realize how quickly things can change—really sticks with you.

    What really made it worse is that I am solo in this country. No family, no familiar faces to run to if things go wrong. That moment made me feel how vulnerable I really am here.

    And you know what? I could have said something.
    I could have asked the driver what the hell happened.
    I could have scolded him for risking our lives.
    I could have demanded an explanation.

    But I didn’t.

    I just looked at him and said, “Thank you.”

    Not because he deserved it.
    Not because I wasn’t angry or afraid.
    But because in that moment, I was just grateful to still be standing.

  • Random

    When I’m Heartbroken

    When I’m heartbroken, I start to write,
    Not for the world, just to feel right.
    I don’t plan it, don’t make it neat,
    Just pour out thoughts I can’t repeat.

    Journals, blogs, and poems too,
    A place to hold what I’ve been through.
    If I don’t let it find its way,
    The weight gets heavier every day.

    Some lines make sense, some just bleed,
    But writing gives me what I need.
    A quiet space, a softer tone,
    To speak the things I feel alone.

    It doesn’t fix the pain I know,
    But gives it somewhere else to go.
    And sometimes that’s the only way
    To make it through another day.

  • Personal

    A Response, At Last

    After days of silence, he finally responded.

    Maybe it was my last message that reached something in him. Whatever it was, he replied—and that alone means something.

    His message? Honest. Gentle. But still, it stung. He’s seeing someone now.

    Yeah… it hurts a little. Okay, more than a little. Knowing he has deep feelings for this person—someone who isn’t me—it pulled at something inside me.

    But at the same time, I’m grateful. Grateful that he was honest with me. That he didn’t leave me wondering. I respect him for following his heart, even if that path doesn’t include me the way I once hoped.

    I took a deep breath after reading his words. And I held onto the memories—those chats we used to have, those fun, endless conversations that felt like home for a while. They meant something to me. They still do.

    So no bitterness here. No regrets. Just a quiet thank you for the moments we shared.

    And a sincere wish—for him and the person who now holds his heart. I wish them happiness. Truly.

    As for me, I’ll carry on. A little stronger, a little softer. And maybe, in time, my heart will find its own someone too.

  • Personal

    When I Chose Courage Over Silence

    Dear Blog,

    Today, I did something brave. Or maybe something emotional. Or maybe both.

    I sent him a lot of messages… like, five long ones. Yeah, I know — a lot. But when your heart feels heavy and full of things left unsaid, sometimes it just spills over. And that’s exactly what happened today.

    I told him I miss him. That I’ve never really stopped caring, even when things went quiet. I just couldn’t pretend anymore that the silence didn’t hurt.

    So I said what I needed to say — that I don’t want us to drift apart without at least knowing how he feels. Not knowing is a kind of ache that lingers in the background, and I guess I was done carrying that alone.

    At one point, I even asked, “What did you do to me?” Not in a bitter way, just… wondering how someone could leave such an imprint on me without even trying.

    It was vulnerable, raw, and maybe a little too much — but it was real. I told him that if he sees my messages, I hope he won’t ignore them. That if anything I’ve said still means something to him, even just a little, I’d appreciate hearing something. Anything.

    Because silence doesn’t always feel like peace — sometimes it feels like being forgotten.

    And in the last message, I gave him something softer. I know he’s cautious — careful with his heart, with his steps, with people. But I reminded him that life doesn’t always wait for us to feel ready. Sometimes, we miss good things because we’re too afraid to take a chance on them.

    I don’t know if he’ll respond.

    I don’t know if it reached him, or if I just poured my feelings into a quiet void.

    But I do know this: today, I spoke from the heart. And no matter what happens, I won’t regret being honest.

    Because caring isn’t weakness. Sometimes, it’s the strongest thing you can do.

    — Me

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