Tomorrow won’t be as exhausting as today

Dear you,

Sometimes in life, you don’t need a lot of big things.
Not the grand wins or the loud applauses.
Sometimes… all you need is a friendship, quiet and steady.
Someone wise enough to guide you gently, someone kind enough to tell you, “It’s going to be alright.”
Someone who won’t fix everything, but will stand beside you while you take your next step.

I long for a warm, long hug.
A tight embrace I can lean into
Just for a moment, to let out the longest sigh.
And,
it will loosen the knots inside and breathe life back into tired bones.

So I can go just a little further… before I feel exhausted again.

I dream of sitting for hours with someone,
Sipping a chilled glass of wine,
Talking about everything under the sun,
And maybe, just maybe, holding hands every now and then.
Not having to worry about anything. Not having to be anything other than myself.

A golden cocoon.
That’s what I wish for.
Something built just for two souls, where we find peace for a few borrowed minutes,

Before the world comes calling again.

That’s all I need.
Just one human.
Someone who sees me: not who I’m expected to be, not who I pretend to be, but who I truly am.

Someone who will hold me, not to fix me,
But to ease the weight I carry.
So that maybe, just maybe,
Tomorrow won’t be as exhausting as today.

If you're out there,
I hope you find this letter.
And if not today, then someday soon.

With a tired heart and quiet hope,

Me 💕

Half of a Rumination

What is this weird feeling

I am not supposed to have?

It’s half a rumination,
half a heartache,
half of a something
I can’t even name.

I try to feel it fully,
but I can’t —
not without knowing
if you’re feeling
half of it too.

All I know
is that I am having
a full feeling... half.
And I am not even supposed to have it.

This—
half of a thought,
half of a wish,
half of a wound
left open in the quiet.

You are the expert.
So tell me:
how do I get rid
of something
that’s only half mine?

Obsession

Photo by Phil Hearing on Unsplash

I know my inner demon —

it has a shape,
a name,
a voice that calls mine.
It stays dormant
only for a little while.

No matter
what I am doing,
it tends to appear —
uninvited,
and sometimes longed for too.

It makes me cry at times,
but also smile,
or frown,
or ache.
It keeps me distracted,
pulling at my heart
until I don’t know
if anything is real at all.

I know it is unreal —
but I can’t let it go.

One thing I will never tell you

One thing I will never tell you

is that you are strong.

But you may be.

She was.

Stronger than me,

by miles.

I still don’t know how she bore such pain

and stayed kind,

attentive,

listening—

to me.

She held space for my agonies

and offered

tips on surviving

this strange, strange life.

One day I said it.

“Sammy, you are very strong.”

I meant it

with all my heart.

But on the phone,

she paused.

Her voice—

not angry,

just… surprised.

“Of all the people in the world,” she said,

“I didn’t expect this from you.

You never saw the effort

I put in

just to accept things as they are?”

And just like that,

my compliment

became a wound.

I think I hurt her.

So bad.

But she forgave me.

Because that’s who she was.

From that day on,

when I want to say,

“You are strong,”

I stop myself.

Instead, I try—

to see the quiet effort

people make,

to carry their days

without breaking.

Sammy,

that’s just one

of the gifts

you left with me.

If I were a man

 If I were a man,

I think I’d be
more self-centered.
Would that make me feel
better?
Liberated?

Would I stop
caring for others—
just care for myself?

Is it because I'm a woman
that I care too much?
That I cling to order,
to the weight of everything?

If I were a man,
would I feel less stressed?
Would I look at beautiful women,
sip a drink without guilt,
leave when I please,
untethered?

If so—
then maybe,
just maybe,
I'm better off
as a woman.

Because I care.
I stay.
Even when it’s hard,
I hold it all—
so that everything
stays in place.