Finally, today marks the end of my story—and I’m genuinely satisfied. Not because someone pushed me to finish it, but because I chose to. This was something I started from my heart, and I ended it the same way—on my own terms.
I don’t know what the world will think of this story. But one thing I do know—it holds moments that are beyond words. Haunting. Traumatizing. Real.
This wasn’t a tale of fairytales and happy endings. No. It was the journey of a girl fighting through storms no one ever saw, learning not from love or comfort, but from her own mistakes—again and again.
Some lives are painted with tragedy from the start… and hers was one of them. There was no prince, no rescue. Just pain, survival, and the strength to keep breathing. To keep going.
Because sometimes, the bravest thing a person can do is live through a story that was never meant to be beautiful.
