u/Snarky_Supremacy

Sometimes I think the most exhausting thing isn't heartbreak.

It's the people the damn people

People always know what you should do.

If you love someone, fight for them. If they don't love you back, fight for yourself. If you lose them, move on. If you move on too fast, you never loved them. If you're alone, find someone. If you're happy alone, you're lying to yourself.

Don't get attached. Don't be cold. Don't trust too easily. Don't close yourself off.

Open up. Be vulnerable. Protect your heart. Fight. Heal. Grow. Move. Stay. Try again. Let go. Hold on.

For God's sake

does anybody ever shut up? Everywhere I look there's another rule.

Another lesson. Another person explaining life as if they've solved it. As if every human heart comes with the same instruction manual.

And I'm just... tired. Not sad. Not broken. Not waiting. Not healing.

Just tired.

Tired of being told what this feeling is supposed to be called. Tired of being told what I should want. Who I should love. Who I shouldn't. Why I should fight. Why I shouldn't. Why she's worth it. Why she isn't. Why I'm the problem. Why I'm not. Why this happened. Why it didn't.

I don't care anymore. I genuinely don't. I don't want another motivational speech. I don't want another lesson disguised as advice. I don't want another person telling me that one day it'll all make sense.

What if I don't need it to make sense? What if I just want a quiet room? A fan spinning above my head. A cup of coffee. A night where nobody asks me what my next move is. A morning where nobody tells me who I should become.

What if I don't want to fight? Not because I'm weak. Not because I've given up. But because I'm exhausted.

Because every corner of life seems to be demanding something from me.

Be better. Try harder. Love deeper. Care less. Risk more. Protect yourself. Be brave. Be soft. Be strong. Be vulnerable. Be something. Be anything. Just don't be still.

And maybe that's the problem. Maybe I want to be still. Maybe I want one day where nobody asks me to improve myself.

One day where nobody tells me to chase happiness. One day where nobody tells me to earn peace.

I don't want to fight for love. I don't want to fight against love. I don't want to fight for myself. I don't want to fight against myself. I don't want another war. I just want to breathe. That's it.

Just breathe. Without a purpose. Without a lesson. Without a destination. Without somebody standing over my shoulder explaining what I should be doing with my life.

Just let me sit here. Let me miss who I miss. Love who I love. Regret what I regret. Keep what I keep. Lose what I lose.

And stop trying to turn every feeling into a problem that needs solving.

Because maybe I'm not looking for freedom. Maybe I'm not looking for answers. Maybe I'm not looking for anything at all. Maybe after carrying the weight of everyone else's expectations for so long

all I want is permission to exist without being told how.

They ask me what love is for me.

Love?

Love is soft fingers through messy hair. It's sharing songs without saying this reminded me of you. It's sleepy voices at 2 a.m. It's random pictures during the day. It's remembering how someone takes their coffee. It's sitting beside one person and feeling the noise inside you slow down.

Love is warmth. It's laughter in the middle of serious conversations. It's missing someone before they even leave. It's finding one person in every crowded room. It's comfort, Madness, craziness, Peace. All at once.

I love the idea of being loved. I love the thought of someone choosing me daily, without confusion. I love the safety love promises. The home it creates inside another human being.

I love everything about love.

Then they again ask me if you love it so much, why are you so scared of it?

Because love never comes alone.

It comes holding fear by the hand.

Fear of being too much one day and not enough the next. Fear of watching someone slowly lose interest while pretending nothing changed. Fear of becoming attached to a voice, a habit, a person and then learning how to live without them.

Love comes with waiting. With silence after arguments. With overthinking simple texts. With crying without telling anyone why. With insecurities that sit quietly inside your chest and grow in the dark.

And the painful part is people say love heals you.

But sometimes, love is the thing that breaks you so deeply you start doubting your worth in places that once felt confident and beautiful.

I have seen people stay and still make each other lonely. I have seen promises turn into distance. I have seen "forever" become unread messages.

And maybe that's why I'm scared.

Because people think love ends when someone leaves. But sometimes it ends while they're still there.

Sometimes love slowly turns into confusion. Into unread feelings. Into pretending everything is okay because you're afraid the truth might ruin whatever is left.

And I know myself too well.

I know how deeply I feel. How I notice small changes in tone, in energy, in effort. How one cold reply can stay in my head for days. How I can pretend to smile while quietly falling apart inside.

That's the problem with loving deeply you don't just hold people in your heart, you start building your whole world around them.

And when they leave, they don't just take themselves away. They take your routines, your comfort, your peace and your breath.

Even ordinary things begin to hurt. A song, A road, A coffee shop, A certain time at night.

So yes, I love love. More than anything, maybe.

But I’m terrified of what comes after it. Because I know if I ever truly love someone, I won't know how to lose them without losing parts of myself too.

If you ever asked me where I belong,

I wouldn't search for an answer.

It's already decided somewhere in me

in the quiet, stubborn way some truths exist.

I belong in the space your presence leaves behind.

Not in the fireworks,

not in stories worth telling other people

but in the ordinary places where life forgets to perform.

In shared grocery lists, where you cross something out and your handwriting settles next to mine like it belongs there.

In those confusing "umm" between your sentences,

in the warmth your body leaves on the couch,

in the silence that doesn't feel empty when you're near,

in the faint trace of your fragrance that stays longer than it should

I'm not someone who chases the world,

but with you

I become restless in the best way, ready to explore everything,

as long as you’re in it.

that’s where I exist.

I don't want a life that shines from a distance.

I want a life that breathes.

I want mornings without urgency

where the world can wait, but your hand doesn't.

I want to memorize the unnoticed things

the way you reach for something without looking,

the way your voice softens when you're tired,

the way you exist

when you think no one is paying attention.

That's where you're most real.

That’s where I want to stay.

I don’t need you to be perfect.

I want the unfinished parts.

The ones you hide.

The ones you don't yet have words for.

I want to sit beside them

without fixing anything

just so you don't have to carry them alone.

And slowly, without making a moment out of it,

I want to become familiar to you.

Neither exciting nor temporary

Just familiar.

Like something your hands reach for

without thinking.

Like something that stays

without asking why.

Let me be the place you return to

when the world becomes too loud,

when everything feels slightly off,

when you don't have the energy to be understood.

You won't have to explain yourself here.

I swear.

I'll learn you quietly

that you love jaggery instead of sugar in your coffee,

your favorite order before you say it,

the songs you never skip,

the childhood stories you return to,

the things you almost say but don't.

I'll notice.

Not to hold it against you

but to hold it for you.

And maybe someday,

without either of us realizing when it happened,

my presence won't feel like something you chose.

It'll feel like something you needed

So I don't need a forever.

Just leave a little space for me

in your ordinary days.

Let your shoes stay by my door

long enough to forget

they were ever meant to leave.

And if tomorrow feels uncertain,

heavy, or too far away

bring it here.

My door has always been half open.

We don't have to understand anything.

We'll just sit with it.

Together.

Like we've always known, this is where we were meant to be.

If you ever asked me where I belong, I wouldn't search for an answer.

It's already decided somewhere in me in the quiet, stubborn way some truths exist.

I belong in the space your presence leaves behind.

Not in the fireworks, not in stories worth telling other people but in the ordinary places where life forgets to perform.

In shared grocery lists, where you cross something out and your handwriting settles next to mine like it belongs there.

In those confusing "umm" between your sentences, in the warmth your body leaves on the couch, in the silence that doesn't feel empty when you're near, in the faint trace of your fragrance that stays longer than it should

I'm not someone who chases the world, but with you I become restless in the best way, ready to explore everything, as long as you’re in it.

that’s where I exist.

I don't want a life that shines from a distance. I want a life that breathes.

I want mornings without urgency where the world can wait, but your hand doesn't.

I want to memorize the unnoticed things the way you reach for something without looking, the way your voice softens when you're tired, the way you exist when you think no one is paying attention.

That's where you're most real. That’s where I want to stay.

I don’t need you to be perfect. I want the unfinished parts. The ones you hide. The ones you don't yet have words for.

I want to sit beside them without fixing anything just so you don't have to carry them alone.

And slowly, without making a moment out of it, I want to become familiar to you.

Neither exciting nor temporary Just familiar.

Like something your hands reach for without thinking. Like something that stays without asking why.

Let me be the place you return to when the world becomes too loud, when everything feels slightly off, when you don't have the energy to be understood.

You won't have to explain yourself here. I swear.

I'll learn you quietly that you love jaggery instead of sugar in your coffee, your favorite order before you say it, the songs you never skip, the childhood stories you return to, the things you almost say but don't.

I'll notice.

Not to hold it against you but to hold it for you.

And maybe someday, without either of us realizing when it happened, my presence won't feel like something you chose.

It'll feel like something you needed

So I don't need forever.

Just leave a little space for me in your ordinary days.

Let your shoes stay by my door long enough to forget they were ever meant to leave.

And if tomorrow feels uncertain, heavy, or too far away

bring it here. My door has always been half open.

We don't have to understand anything. We'll just sit with it.

Together.

Like we've always known, this is where we were meant to be.