What Remains

What Remains

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WpMetadataReadW trakcie30m
WpMetadataNoticeOstatnia publikacja pt., wrz 5, 2025
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Literatura Faktu
What remains of me is not what I used to be. Some days I feel like I know everything-every crack, every silence, every betrayal etched into my skin-and yet I walk through life as if I understand nothing at all. I grieve what I've lost, but I'm furious that I ever cared in the first place. They say time heals, but I swear it only sharpens the edges. I laugh when I'm supposed to cry, and I cry when I should have grown numb by now. It's almost comical, the way life bruises you while pretending to teach you lessons. Black and white, they call it. But I live in the blur in-between, where rage and sorrow sit side by side like old friends who hate each other. This is not a story of victories. This is a confession of fragments, a map of scars, the irony of surviving when survival itself feels like another wound. And yet here I am, telling it-because what remains deserves to be remembered, even if it hurts.
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I really don't remember the last time I was happy even my childhood memories I honestly don't remember having a bubbly childhood like any other kids ,my life has always been miserable and honestly learned how to adapt to that. you honestly smile over something stupid , laugh over a cracked joke for a few minutes and there's that thing that triggers that you just had enough and you should stop and your mood just goes down and there's nothing to do about it. It's like the inner you always wakes up fucked up more than you are fucked up and tells you that you just sad and you gonna stay that way until you take out the anger on something or someone but you know what something always has to be the blade, permanent scars on how bad it was ,a daily reminder on how life is and how sadness over comes you at times actually not at times but everytime and on the someone part , you hurt people that honestly try to reach out to you and show you how much they care about you but you just had it with everyone and everything and you want no one caring about your feelings and giving a fuck about you because you can't reciprocate the feelings. You can't find yourself caring about anyone else but you but still can't care about yourself enough to feel safe or protected , he was the only one that made me feel alive and I lost him but what hurts more is losing someone and only realizing later what they meant to you.

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