Paige Madison
Bio
I love capturing those quiet, meaningful moments in life —the ones often unseen —and turning them into stories that make people feel seen. I’m so glad you’re here, and I hope my stories feel like a warm conversation with an old friend.
Stories (27)
Filter by community
Rainy Day Reflections
August 27th I’m sitting here with my knees pulled up to my chest, the cheap spiral-bound notebook balanced on top, and my pen shaking like it’s got something important to say. The rain’s tapping against the window in these soft, uneven bursts that make me think of someone typing slowly, like they’re unsure of the words they’re putting down. I feel that way, too. Like every thought is a hesitant key pressed.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Confessions
A Childhood Loss
This morning, I couldn’t get out of bed. Sometimes, the heaviness settles on me so completely that even breathing feels like a conscious effort. Today was one of those days. I lay there for what felt like hours, staring blankly at the ceiling as the sunlight crept through the blinds in soft, fractured lines. The world outside was awake and alive—cars hummed in the distance, birds sang faintly from some hidden perch, and I imagined people rushing about their mornings with purpose. But I felt miles away from all of it, like I was sealed behind glass, watching life move on without me. The thought of standing up, of pretending to be “okay,” was too much. It was easier to sink deeper into the mattress, letting its weight cradle me while my own thoughts dragged me further under.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Confessions
Unlovable, Loved.
Unreachable. Unobtainable. Unrequited. These are the words she whispers to herself in quiet moments, words that have become a mantra, a chain that binds her heart and mind in equal measure. For as long as she has dared to envision you, to describe you in the soft corners of her thoughts, each attempt has ended the same. No matter how many ways she tries to imagine your presence, no matter how vividly she paints you in her mind, the picture always dissolves, leaving her in a haze of longing that borders on melancholy. There is no parallel feeling to compare it to, no other ache that hums quite like this one.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Writers
Confessions in the Orchard
I have a secret. I can hear the wind differently from anyone else. It doesn’t just whistle through trees or rattle against windows—it speaks to me. Sometimes it sings, a soft hum through the petals of flowers that have yet to bloom. I hear it now, in the lilies that line the edge of my garden, their white faces tilting toward the sun as if trying to memorize its warmth before it leaves them again. New flowers push up bravely, unfolding into the light, and I watch them, thinking maybe, just maybe, I can be as brave. But there’s a weight in me that does not lift with the sun. For me, spring is done before it even begins.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Confessions
Fragments in the Wind
Tonight, I write in the dark, with only the faint glow of this lamp for company. Maybe that’s fitting—confessions like these aren’t meant for sunlight. They belong in shadows, whispered to pages that will never speak back. Because the truth is ugly. And trust—God, trust is so much uglier when it dies.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Confessions
When the Heart Breaks
I woke again before dawn. Not sure why. Maybe to feel the space beside me that’s always empty now. I held you in my dreams—or maybe it was just memory pretending. My chest feels hollow in the way it used to when I first realized we weren’t enough. Or maybe that’s every time I think about you. Did you ever think about me the way I think about you? Probably not. Probably never.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Confessions
From Shadows to Sunlight
There are people who walk into your life wearing warm smiles, their laughter light and their words seemingly kind. At first, it feels safe, even comforting. You welcome them in, offering trust freely, believing in the sincerity behind their charm. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, the warmth fades. Beneath the mask lies a coldness you cannot ignore. Their words, once playful, twist into sharp edges. Lies unfold in quiet moments, subtle yet cruel, cutting through the fabric of your confidence.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Poets
Echoes of You
I don’t even know how I got here. How we got here. This place where every room feels too empty, every street too long, every laugh too sharp because it isn’t yours. I wake up and the first thought that hits me isn’t the sun or the day—it’s you. And then the absence. The nothing. The silence that fills every corner like a tide that keeps coming back no matter how hard I try to push it away. Your name used to be a whisper in the dark, soft, warm, a secret I held close like it was part of me. Now it’s just a ghost, echoing faintly, too weak to comfort me, too present to ignore.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Confessions
Shattered Reflections
Journal Entry – August 24, 2025 I know I promised—truly promised—that we would always be friends. I know I swore I would never lie to you. And I did mean it, every word, every pulse of my heart in that moment. But you… You made me lie. Not a small, harmless lie. You pushed me into deception, into bending my own truth until I didn’t recognize it, until I barely recognized myself. I walked that tightrope willingly, or maybe foolishly, because I believed in us. And yet, it was agony. Agony to try to remain faithful to my own love while you methodically chipped it away, piece by piece, day by day, like some cruel sculptor who enjoys the sound of flesh and hope breaking under their hands.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Journal
What Was It, If Not Love?
Maybe your love language was hostility. Maybe it was anger, dripping from your words like acid. Maybe it was deceit, a slow rot that crawled into the corners of my mind, making me doubt everything I knew about us. Maybe it was manipulation, twisting the very shape of my decisions until I couldn’t tell my own thoughts from yours. Maybe it was control, the subtle throttling that left me breathless, my chest tight, my voice strangled. Maybe it was mutually assured destruction, your version of intimacy, a shared battlefield where the only victory was survival. And maybe—God, I hate to admit it—I hope you loved me. I hope the chaos, the verbal flays, the calculated silences, the shattering of my trust, were all your idea of affection.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Journal
Ashes Fell, You Rose Anew
I don’t know why I keep writing about flowers, but I suppose they’ve always been easier to understand than people. Tonight, my thoughts drift to daylilies. Not because they’re my favorite—they’re not—but because they remind me of myself. Everyone sees their bright orange petals and assumes they’re simple, cheerful things. But if you look closely, really look, you notice the intricacies, the edges, the subtle shadows that betray a story of survival.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Journal
