Isa_bicarbonato

I don’t know how to stop loving you.
          	
          	I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried.
          	I’ve whispered to myself a thousand reasons why I should let go. I’ve listed all the times you looked through me like I was no one, all the moments you chose someone else, the way your silence stings more than any goodbye ever could.
          	
          	But none of it works.
          	Because every time I breathe, it’s your name I feel clinging to the air.
          	And I hate that. I hate how my heart still calls for you, even when you're miles away — not in distance, but in spirit. Emotionally untouchable. Cold in ways I wish I could learn.
          	
          	You don’t know.
          	You don’t know that I stay up some nights just staring at my ceiling, wondering what it would feel like if you loved me back.
          	Wondering what your laugh would sound like if it was mine to hear.
          	Wondering how warm your hands would feel if they held mine without pulling away.
          	
          	I love you in a way that hurts.
          	Not the pretty kind — not roses and music and poetry.
          	It’s the kind that chokes. That burns behind the eyes. That ruins every song because somehow they all remind me of you.
          	You live in places you shouldn’t — in my dreams, in the clothes I wear, in the mirror when I try to smile and it doesn’t reach my eyes anymore.
          	
          	You’ve moved on. Or maybe you were never here to begin with.
          	And yet, I remain — loving you in silence, in agony, in invisible ways.
          	
          	If I had the chance to tell you everything, really tell you, I think I’d fall apart halfway through.
          	I think I’d break right there in front of you, because my love was never soft — it was a storm I kept swallowing, over and over, just to protect you from it.
          	
          	But if — one day — you ever turn to me, even just for a second, and ask why I never let go...
          	
          	I’ll look at you, with every shattered piece still glowing, and say:
          	
          	“Because no one else ever felt like home the way you did.”
          	
          	And maybe that’s tragic.
          	But it’s the truth.
          	
          	— H.

sanniezx_

OIII Isa, cheguei atrasado mais cheguei, não pense que eu esqueci o aniversário da minha bbzuda não. 
          
          Enfim, eu nunca fui bom em me expressar, ou expressar algo para meus amigos, eu sempre fui muito fechado e tals. Mas eu me sinto tão confortável com você, você é tão legal comigo e isso me da liberdade para me expressar com você.
          
          A gente passou por algumas coisas, mais a gente continua firme e forte, e me sinto muito grato por ta comemorando esse aniversário com você hoje!!
          
          FELIZ ANIVERSÁRIO BBZUDA!! 
          ass : yu ou calcinha dura *emoji chorando*

Isa_bicarbonato

I don’t know how to stop loving you.
          
          I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried.
          I’ve whispered to myself a thousand reasons why I should let go. I’ve listed all the times you looked through me like I was no one, all the moments you chose someone else, the way your silence stings more than any goodbye ever could.
          
          But none of it works.
          Because every time I breathe, it’s your name I feel clinging to the air.
          And I hate that. I hate how my heart still calls for you, even when you're miles away — not in distance, but in spirit. Emotionally untouchable. Cold in ways I wish I could learn.
          
          You don’t know.
          You don’t know that I stay up some nights just staring at my ceiling, wondering what it would feel like if you loved me back.
          Wondering what your laugh would sound like if it was mine to hear.
          Wondering how warm your hands would feel if they held mine without pulling away.
          
          I love you in a way that hurts.
          Not the pretty kind — not roses and music and poetry.
          It’s the kind that chokes. That burns behind the eyes. That ruins every song because somehow they all remind me of you.
          You live in places you shouldn’t — in my dreams, in the clothes I wear, in the mirror when I try to smile and it doesn’t reach my eyes anymore.
          
          You’ve moved on. Or maybe you were never here to begin with.
          And yet, I remain — loving you in silence, in agony, in invisible ways.
          
          If I had the chance to tell you everything, really tell you, I think I’d fall apart halfway through.
          I think I’d break right there in front of you, because my love was never soft — it was a storm I kept swallowing, over and over, just to protect you from it.
          
          But if — one day — you ever turn to me, even just for a second, and ask why I never let go...
          
          I’ll look at you, with every shattered piece still glowing, and say:
          
          “Because no one else ever felt like home the way you did.”
          
          And maybe that’s tragic.
          But it’s the truth.
          
          — H.

Isa_bicarbonato

"I love her so much.. "For someone who no longer knows how to silence. I love her so much.. But that much doesn't scream, do not invade, does not require. This so much hides between the lines of what I do not say. It's a bit that hurts, that squeezes the chest at dawn when I see the sky and I think maybe she looking at the sky too, not knowing that she is the same. I love her so much.. Even when ignoring me, even when I smiled at everyone but for me, even when it pretends not to feel what I try to disguise. It's love with anger. It is love with fear. It is love with pride. But still… it's love. And if one day she looks at me and ask, "Why?" I will swallow all the words, and maybe just say: "Because you are you." And that is already so much. And I love her so much.
          
          H..