Stream of Consciousness
To anyone who feels like a failure, this one's for you
I have known the depths of pain, regret, desolation and the atrocious feeling of not being enough. You sink deeper into the abyss of self-doubt and plague yourself that life has no meaning left to sustain your being, There is tiredness in your soul and your eyes have lost their spark.
By Hridya Sharma11 months ago in Confessions
Challenges Shape Your Future
Challenges Shape Your Future Life is a journey filled with unexpected twists, turns, and obstacles. At every stage, new experiences test our patience, endurance, and strength. Some moments bring immense joy, while others shake us to our core. It is in these moments of struggle that we are truly tested. Challenges arise, doubts creep in, and at times, life feels unbearable. However, running away from challenges leads nowhere. Only by confronting them head-on can we truly live and grow.
By Dipak Pawar11 months ago in Confessions
Between Faith and Feeling. Content Warning.
Rain lashed against the dorm window, a relentless percussion mirroring the tempest brewing inside Sarah. It had only been a week since Elara’s confession, her voice a fragile tremor of hope and fear as she’d admitted her feelings. Nevertheless, Sarah, caught completely off guard, had found herself responding in kind, the burgeoning affection she’d been carefully suppressing blossoming in the sudden light of Elara’s vulnerability. But Elara’s confession had been immediately followed by a retraction, a wall of religious conviction slamming between them. "I can't," Elara had whispered, her eyes wide with longing and terror. "It's against everything I believe."
By Clara Sutterfield11 months ago in Confessions
No, He Never Hit Me.... Content Warning.
The question got asked again: did he ever hit you? I wracked my brain for an answer and could only remember the times he almost hit me with his fist making contact with the wall or the door a few inches from my head. "No, he never hit me."
By The Schizophrenic Mom11 months ago in Confessions
80 Years of Marriage at Ages 103 and 101
The husband, who is 103 years old, and his wife, who is 101 years old. As relationships fizzle and commitments come and go, the love story of a couple married for 80 years is a testament to the prospect of timeless love.
By Rohitha Lanka11 months ago in Confessions
A True Friend by Aram Frith
To own the word friend, we must first become a true friend. A good conversation does not make a friend. If someone is not there in times of trouble, if they go somewhere else to talk about their sorrows, if they support you in making a mistake. If they come out of their way to talk about their sorrows in times of happiness, that is not a friend.
By Rohitha Lanka11 months ago in Confessions
The Bridge Between Us
It was a Tuesday—one of those gray, rainy afternoons when the world seems to slow down, and even the noise of life fades into the background. I had just moved into my new apartment, surrounded by boxes and a sense of uncertainty. The place smelled of fresh paint, but it felt empty. Solitude had become my companion, and the silence of my new life echoed louder than I cared to admit.But then she appeared.Clara.I first saw her struggling against the wind, her umbrella fighting to stay intact, and her groceries threatening to spill out onto the street. I rushed over instinctively, offering help before my mind could catch up. She glanced up, her face partly hidden by her rain-soaked hair, and for a brief moment, everything seemed to pause. The city around us disappeared, leaving only the space between us. She smiled—a hesitant, yet knowing smile—and the warmth of it seeped into me, chasing away the cold.“Rain's got a mind of its own today, doesn't it?” I said, trying to break the ice, my voice tinged with humor.She laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s always like this here. A little battle of wills between me and the weather.”In that simple exchange, I felt something shift. It was as if the universe, in its quiet way, had orchestrated this moment. A chance meeting, a spark, the beginning of something unexpected. I offered to walk her home, and she agreed without hesitation.The rain had stopped by the time we reached her door, but we stood there, lingering in the doorway like we both knew we didn’t want to part just yet. She invited me in for coffee, and we talked—about everything and nothing. Our favorite books, the things we had seen, the dreams that lived quietly within us. As the hours passed, I realized how easily I had let my guard down around her, how naturally I felt connected. It wasn’t just the words we exchanged—it was the way she made the world feel smaller, warmer, as if our meeting was the only thing that mattered in that moment.The next few months were a whirlwind. I would find myself looking forward to the smallest moments—shared glances, late-night conversations, the way her hand fit so perfectly into mine. She had this way of making life feel lighter, like even the darkest days had a silver lining when she was near. Her laughter was like a melody, one that I couldn’t get enough of, and her touch brought a kind of peace I hadn’t known I needed.But love, I soon learned, isn’t always as simple as it seems.It started slowly at first—the silences between us that once felt comfortable now stretched a little too long. She seemed distant at times, her gaze drifting, as though she was searching for something but not finding it. I noticed it first in her eyes—an emptiness that wasn’t there before. I wanted to ignore it, to pretend everything was fine, but deep down, I knew something was changing.One evening, it became impossible to ignore.She sat across from me, her face unreadable, and after what felt like an eternity, she spoke.“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “About me, about you, about this… us.”I felt a cold knot form in my stomach. “What do you mean?”She looked at me with a sadness I hadn’t seen before. “I think I’ve been losing myself. I don’t know who I am anymore, and I don’t think I can keep pretending I do. I love you, but sometimes love isn’t enough. I don’t know if I’m the person I need to be when I’m with you.”Her words hit me like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to tell her we could work through it, that I would wait, that we could fix this. But the look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know—she had already made up her mind.“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking.It felt like the ground beneath me had crumbled, and all I could do was watch as she walked out of my life. I wanted to chase her, to beg her to stay, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. The distance between us wasn’t physical. It was something deeper, something we couldn’t repair.The days after that were unbearable. The apartment that once felt like a home now felt like a prison. Her absence was like a shadow that hung over every corner, reminding me of everything I had lost. I tried to fill the void, to distract myself, but nothing could replace her. I missed her laughter, her touch, and the way she would curl up beside me after a long day. I missed the person I was when I was with her.Months passed, and I tried to move on. But how do you move on from someone who became a part of your soul? The world felt dull without her. I threw myself into work, into anything that could occupy my mind, but nothing seemed to work. I could still see her in everything—the way the sun hit the window in the morning, the quiet moments that used to be ours.And then, one afternoon, I saw her again.It wasn’t planned. I was walking through the park, lost in thought, when I spotted her standing by the fountain, looking out over the water. Time seemed to slow as our eyes met. The world around us faded away. There was so much unsaid between us, and yet, in that moment, we didn’t need words.She walked towards me, her steps hesitant but sure. When she was close enough, she reached for my hand, her fingers trembling slightly. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with so much emotion.“I’ve missed you too,” I said, my voice thick with the weight of everything we had lost and everything we could still have.We didn’t say much more. There was no need for words. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is simply be with someone in the quiet moments, when everything else falls away, and all that’s left is the bond that exists between you.And so, we stood there, in the silence, knowing that love isn’t just about the moments that make you smile. It’s also about the moments that make you bleed, the ones that break you and rebuild you. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where the true beauty of love lies.
By SINDHI AHMED11 months ago in Confessions
