Yumiko Hanami

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https://www.wattpad.com/story/396278169?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=xx___yumiko___xx

A wise man once said: You'll be alone in the most difficult times of your life. 
          
          These times will make you wise, mature, and fearless. 
          
          They will strip away every illusion and show you who truly matters. 
          
          You'll learn to be your own strength when no one shows up. 
          
          In silence, you'll meet the strongest version of yourself. 
          
          Pain will become your greatest teacher, and growth will become your quiet reward. 
          
          One day, you'll look back and realize solitude was a blessing in disguise.

No one really talks how painful it is to lose a friend. 
          
          Not to distance, not to time, just… to life. 
          
          One day they’re your person. 
          
          Your safe place. 
          
          The one who just gets it. 
          
          And then slowly, without any real reason, they’re not.
          
          You go from talking every day to catching glimpses of their life through a screen. 
          
          From being part of their world to just watching from the outside. 
          
          And it messes with you. 
          
          How something so solid can just... fade.
          
          You start asking yourself if you could’ve done more, said something, fought harder. 
          
          But the truth is, sometimes people outgrow each other quietly. 
          
          No big explosion. 
          
          Just silence that gets louder with time.
          
          And maybe that’s the hardest kind of heartbreak. 
          
          Because it’s not blame. 
          
          It’s letting go of someone who once felt like home and learning how to be okay without them.

Was it easier when 
          I was just a glimpse,
          a story you hadn’t read 
          too far into?
          
          Before you noticed
          the uneven lines,
          the faded ink,
          the chapters I tried
          to rewrite.
          
          Do you turn the pages 
          slower now,
          pausing at the parts
          that don’t feel the way 
          you thought they would?
          
          Or was I easier to love
          when there was still more
          left unknown?

You say sorry even when you didn’t do anything wrong.
          
          You carry the weight of problems that were never yours to fix. 
          
          You replay every conversation in your head. 
          
          You wonder if you said too much or not enough. 
          
          You overthink your silence. 
          
          You overthink your words. 
          
          And when something goes wrong, your first instinct is to ask, “Was it me?”
          
          You take responsibility for people’s moods, their distance, their hurt. 
          
          You convince yourself that if you had done things differently, maybe they wouldn’t have left. 
          
          Maybe they wouldn’t be upset. 
          
          Maybe things would still be okay.
          
          But not everything is your fault. 
          
          Not every storm is yours to stop. 
          
          Not every silence is something you caused. 
          
          And still, you carry the guilt quietly, as if punishing yourself will somehow make things better for everyone else.
          
          You’ve been taught to keep the peace, even if it costs your own. 
          
          You’ve been taught that being blamed is easier than being misunderstood. 
          
          And now you flinch at the idea that maybe you didn’t do anything wrong.
          
          Because blaming yourself feels safer than accepting the truth: that sometimes people hurt you. 
          
          Sometimes they walk away. 
          
          Sometimes they fail to see the weight you carry.
          
          And none of that is your fault. 
          
          It never was.

I’m tired of being the strong one.
          
          The one who listens,
          who understands,
          who holds everything together
          while breaking inside.
          
          I smile,
          I say I’m fine,
          because that’s what everyone expects.
          But deep down,
          I just want someone to see through it.
          
          To notice the cracks,
          to hear the silence between my words,
          to tell me it’s okay to fall apart.
          
          Just once,
          I want to be the one who is held,
          instead of the one
          holding everyone else together.

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          https://www.wattpad.com/story/395332812

I’d rather be alone than pretend to be someone I’m not just to fit in. 
          
          There’s a quiet strength in choosing authenticity over acceptance, even if that means walking your path solo. 
          
          Being alone gives you the freedom to stay true to yourself without compromising your values to please others. 
          
          It’s in solitude that you really get to know who you are, what you want, and what you’re no longer willing to tolerate.
          
          I’d rather sit with my own thoughts than fill the silence with empty conversation. 
          
          Not every room you walk into deserves your presence, and not every person deserves access to your energy. 
          
          Alone doesn’t mean broken—it means whole enough to wait for what aligns. 
          
          There’s something powerful about choosing yourself, even when it’s hard. 
          
          Sometimes, the most meaningful connections come after you’ve learned how to stand strong on your own.

Hiiii I'm trying to make a novel, I hope you can support me hihihi. (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/395259956