Goodbye.
I don’t really know how to write this without sounding emotional, because this account, these stories, these characters, and all of you have been part of my life for a long time now.
For the past year, I wrote fifteen books. I stayed awake for scenes, for plot twists, for characters that felt more real to me than reality sometimes. I built worlds while silently fighting battles in my own life that most people around me never saw.
And honestly, writing itself never hurt me. I loved writing. I loved creating. I loved disappearing into another universe for a while.
But somewhere along the way, I think I lost myself trying to keep going through exhaustion, pressure, expectations, numbers, consistency, and the constant feeling that no matter how much I gave, it was never enough.
The truth is, I’m tired. Not “take a nap” tired. Soul tired.
For six months, I kept telling myself things would get better if I just worked harder, smiled harder, endured harder. But I think I reached a point where I genuinely don’t know how much more of myself I can keep pouring out.
So this is goodbye, at least for now.
Thank you to every single person who read even one chapter of my stories. Thank you to the silent readers too. Thank you to the people who stayed. You mattered more than you know.
Maybe one day I’ll come back to writing. Maybe I won’t.
Right now, I just need to step away and find myself outside of views, reads, updates, deadlines, and expectations.
Take care of yourselves. And please keep loving stories, even if I can’t write them anymore.
