The Nights Nobody Talks About

There are nights that don’t make it to Instagram.

Nights where the walls feel too tight,

and your own skin feels foreign.

Where you stare at the ceiling,

but it stares back like it’s judging you.

Nights where your chest aches not because of heartbreak,

but because breathing feels like betrayal.

Because if you stop for even a moment,

everything might crash.

These are the nights nobody talks about.

Where “I’m tired” doesn’t mean sleep.

It means soul-tired.

It means, “I’m carrying too much, and no one sees it.”

You scroll past smiling faces,

people chasing dreams, buying homes, falling in love

And you wonder,

“Why not me?

What am I doing wrong?”

You feel like a glitch in the universe,

like somehow, you missed the exit ramp to happiness.

But I need you to know something:

You’re not alone in this room.

There are millions of quiet warriors

crying behind locked bathroom doors,

smiling through broken hearts,

drowning in silence.

And you

you’re one of the strongest of them all.

Because you stayed.

When it would’ve been easier to disappear,

you stayed.

When no one noticed your sadness,

you carried it anyway.

When love turned cold and money ran thin,

you still gave warmth where you could.

You’re not invisible.

You’re just surrounded by people

who’ve learned to look away from pain.

But I see you.

I see the strength it takes to answer “I’m fine”

when you’re anything but.

I see how you keep showing up

for work, for family, for life

even when you’ve got nothing left inside.

I see the way you tuck your pain behind your lashes

and wear resilience like lipstick.

You don’t want to be a hero.

You just want a break.

A moment where it doesn’t all fall on you.

And you’ll get that.

Maybe not today.

Maybe not in the way you imagined.

But healing isn’t loud

It’s the quiet decision to keep living anyway.

So tonight, if no one’s told you:

You’re allowed to be tired.

You’re allowed to feel like it’s all too much.

You’re allowed to not have the answers.

But please

don’t give up on the version of you

that finally feels light again.

Loved again. Free again.

You haven’t met her yet

but she’s coming.

So breathe.

Cry if you need.

Write your pain into poems.

And when the morning comes,

just open your eyes again.

That’s enough.

That’s everything.