I’ve had a horrible day.
The kind that sits heavy on my chest
like unanswered prayers.
I moved through hours like a ghost in my own life,
speaking when required and
attempting to smile where I should.
I’ve questioned everything.
My choices. My timing. My worth.
I am constantly tired and not just in body,
but in spirit.
I’ve had a horrible week.
I’ve cried myself to sleep every night.
You can smell the salt from my tears on my pillow.
A heavy weight on my shoulders as I see my mates moving forward.
New jobs, new wins, new milestones while I feel stuck.
Stuck in a limbo from hell.
Not progressing. Not backsliding.
Just frozen in place,
watching life move
like a train I somehow missed.
In fact, I’ve had a horrible month
and it’s my birth month.
The month that was supposed to celebrate me
has instead reminded me of my inadequacy.
Another year older,
but not where I thought I’d be.
I thought I would have arrived by now.
Instead, I am paused.
Suspended between who I was
and who I am meant to become.
I know I haven’t had a horrible life,
but it’s hard to see the positives
inside this big negative
that I am stuck in.
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 4:00 PM UTC
Dear Best Friend,
The chilly breeze outside just made me think of you.
I can only imagine how numb and frozen your heart is right now.
I miss you. The only one that understood me, that listened, that helped.
I am sorry. For not being there when you needed me the most.
When he attacked you and tore down your self-esteem.
When he bullied and disrespected you.
When he destroyed that heart, the one we worked so hard to mend; the heart we brought back to life.
I am sorry. I should have been there.
I should have been there to stop him from trying to change you.
I should have stopped him from forcing you to do things you did not want to do.
I should have been there to stop him from making you resent yourself.
I should have been there…
I need you to know that, I need you.
You are not a replaceable person in my life, neither are you unimportant.
You are a blessing. A treasure.
The whole **** chest and you deserve to know that.
I hate him. For making you feel less than you are.
For taking advantage of your kindness and selflessness.
For blurring the lines between your selflessness and the selfishness of others.
For placing a burden on you while claiming to love you.
I cherish you because you are not perfect but your imperfections make you…you.
He didn’t see that but that’s because he was not right for you.
Who you are is a beautiful soul, one that is selfless and caring.
A person whose idea of a good time is having a Disney movie marathon.
A person who loves easily and wholeheartedly.
Who you are is who I would love for you to always be.
You are not flawless but you are perfect the way you are.
It gets better. Everyone says that, but does it really?
I think you just learn to live with the pain and eventually it stops hurting so much.
Guess what honey? You are strong enough to do it.
To bear the pain until it fades.
I'm proud of you. For trying to overcome this situation.
For being bold in the face of hardship.
For being you.
I know you fear the world right now but I hope soon you realize that the world needs to fear you not the other way around.
Fear you for all you have to offer.
Your warmth.
Your originality.
Your bright personality.
I love you.
I love you for free.
Always and forever.
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 6:12 AM UTC
I’m not a morning person,
yes, I enjoy eggs, bacon and golden toast,
the hiss of butter in a sizzling pan,
sunlight warming my skin through half open blinds
but even the promise of breakfast
cannot persuade my bones to not ache.
The alarm feels like an accusation
when it goes off
signaling a new dawn
that I am not prepared for.
I’m not a morning person,
yet I get up every morning and go through the same routines.
Exhausted, but I push anyway,
folding myself into schedules and expectations,
ticking boxes my hands know by memory.
Constantly stuck somewhere between obligation and survival,
Repeatedly asking myself if there is a point to all this?
I’m not a morning person,
but lately I’ve not felt like an afternoon or evening person either.
The hours blur like ink in water.
Noon passes without ceremony,
twilight settles without applause.
I drift between clocks,
untethered from the language of time,
a guest in every part of the day.
A guest in my own life.
I’m not a morning person and I’m tired.
Tired of pretending I am.
Tired of being tired.
I just want to sleep through the morning, noon and night,
to silence the alarms and the questions,
to rest without earning it,
to disappear beneath blankets of quiet
where time does not demand anything from me
and I have to do nothing but
BREATHE.
Yves,
2026.
Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 5:18 PM UTC