#EmotionalPain

[alittlebitmessedupgirl]

[scraps-of-genius-or-insanity]

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

[heartstrings-and-hauntings]

Pretty and Pink

A lesson that was wanted to keep, Never learned, always on repeat. The feeling was unmatched, Nothing could compete, Until emptiness took over, Replaced what should feel complete.

Blinded by a foolish heart, The loveliest shade of pink. All doubts remain, Lingering with a haunting ghost.

The joke is clear; a lost and wandering soul, Clinging to memories that might not be real. Just a way to pass the time, But joy was brought to these days.

A lesson that could never be kept, The universe chose a different plan. One will remember, and another forget, The journey continues—reluctantly met.

[moonshadowmystique]

When Love Comes Too Late: A Lesson in Embracing What Matters

There’s a moment that keeps replaying in my mind—a moment I can never take back, no matter how much I wish I could. The realization that I loved him didn’t come in a grand, cinematic epiphany. It crept in slowly, with quiet whispers of "what if?" and "why didn’t I see this before?"

We were friends, or so I thought. We laughed together, shared late-night conversations, and leaned on each other through hard times. I always admired how kind he was, how he seemed to understand me in ways no one else did. But I never let my mind wander too far. We were friends, and that’s all it could be—until I realized it wasn’t.

I noticed it when he started to drift away. Maybe it was the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, or how our conversations became shorter, less frequent. A part of me wondered if he had met someone else, and my chest tightened at the thought. That’s when it hit me. The feeling I couldn’t name before. The pull that was always there. I was in love with him.

But it was too late.

He had already moved on, found someone who saw what I hadn’t, someone who cherished him in ways I now longed to. All those moments we spent together came flooding back—times when he looked at me just a little too long, when he laughed a little too hard at my jokes, when his touch lingered. I saw it all in a different light, but it was a light that had dimmed for him.

I wanted to tell him. I thought maybe I could undo the distance that had grown between us. But what could I say? “I think I loved you all along, and I didn’t realize until you were gone”? It felt too selfish, too unfair. So I stayed quiet, and he stayed gone.

I often wonder if he knew. If, in some small way, he sensed it but got tired of waiting for me to catch up. I wish I had told him sooner. I wish I had let myself see what was right in front of me before it slipped through my fingers.

Now, I live with the bittersweet memory of what could have been. And as much as it hurts, I’ve learned something valuable from it all: love should never be ignored or taken for granted. If you feel it, even in the smallest of ways, don’t wait. Don’t assume there’s time. Because sometimes, when you finally realize the truth, it’s already too late.

And that’s a regret you carry with you, one that lingers long after the chance to make it right has passed.

[nectarof-the-gods]

Quote Reflection: Girl in Pieces “I need release, I need to hurt myself more than the world can hurt me, and then I can comfort myself.” This quote from Charlie (a character from girl in pieces) is raw and deeply emotional. It shows the intense pain she is feels and the destructive coping mechanism she uses to deal with that pain. The need to inflict hurt on herself before the world can, almost as a way to regain control over her suffering.

I find this quote because it reflects a common feeling many experience when overwhelmed by emotional pain, the belief that self-inflicted hurt somehow grants a sense of control or comfort. It’s a desperate attempt to release the pressure inside, but the comfort is brief and often comes at a much higher cost.

Kathleen Glasgow uses this moment to show how self-harm can be connected to emotional release. It highlights how trauma can turn the need for comfort into something harmful. This shows the importance of finding healthier ways to cope with emotional pain

How does this quote resonate with you?

What are your thoughts on the way the book portrays self-harm as a response to trauma?

Feel free to share your reflections or interpretations.

[ourinternallandscapetarot]

"The heart will break, but broken live on."

– Lord Byron

[alionalley]

Wish of Silence

Am I worthy thy torment?

@alionalley

[lentes-e-linhas]

[melomaniac93-blog]

[michaelgburns]

A Song Interrupted: Resuming Life After Loss

"The pain may never fully disappear, but it will soften with time, allowing space for new memories and experiences."

[alittlebitmessedupgirl]

[scraps-of-genius-or-insanity]

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

[sweeetbutpsyco]

Blood

Blood fills our body more than tears they say, making it more precious. But why is it that men went to war for their families spill of blood but were not able to give answer for those whose tears were spilled because of that? Can't you hear the wind carrying the voices that are crying out loud saying- You take revenge for every ounce of blood drained, yet you cannot answer for our shed tears?

[misha060]

She says she's not materialistic, but the way she clings to things makes me wonder if she's lying to herself. If something breaks or falters at home, she mourns like a child’s been hurt. But when I—her child—am hurt, there’s not a flicker of pain in her eyes.

Her love for objects runs deeper than her love for me. She tends to broken things, but when I break, she turns the blade herself.

Every day, her words become knives, cutting through me like I’m something meant to be torn down. I die and rise again, only to have her shatter me once more.

I wonder if she knows what she’s doing, if she feels the weight of her cruelty, or if I am just another thing she’s grown too used to hurting.

I wish she cared for my heart the way she cares for a cracked vase, nurturing it, mending the pieces. But instead, she’s the one holding the hammer.