Some people just want to hear,
“I’m proud of you,”
without feeling like they had to earn it first.
Some people want,
“You can rest now,”
because they’ve been surviving for so long
they forgot resting was allowed.
Some people ache for,
“I noticed you were hurting,”
because being seen
can save a person more than being fixed.
Some want to hear,
“You make life easier to live,”
instead of feeling like a burden
every time they speak.
Some people replay entire conversations
just hoping someone would’ve said,
“Stay.”
“Don’t leave yet.”
“I still want you here.”
Others are waiting for apologies
they know may never come:
“I was wrong.”
“I hurt you.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
And somewhere,
someone is staring at the ceiling at 2 a.m.
desperately wishing
for a voice to break the silence and say,
“You are not hard to love.”
“You matter here.”
“I’m glad you survived.”
“I choose you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Maybe the saddest thing about people
is how many of us
carry entire oceans inside ourselves
just waiting
for a few gentle words
to finally feel real again.
May 27
May 27, 2026 at 8:12 PM UTC
Some people just want to hear,
“I’m proud of you,”
without feeling like they had to earn it first.
Some people want,
“You can rest now,”
because they’ve been surviving for so long
they forgot resting was allowed.
Some people ache for,
“I noticed you were hurting,”
because being seen
can save a person more than being fixed.
Some want to hear,
“You make life easier to live,”
instead of feeling like a burden
every time they speak.
Some people replay entire conversations
just hoping someone would’ve said,
“Stay.”
“Don’t leave yet.”
“I still want you here.”
Others are waiting for apologies
they know may never come:
“I was wrong.”
“I hurt you.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
And somewhere,
someone is staring at the ceiling at 2 a.m.
desperately wishing
for a voice to break the silence and say,
“You are not hard to love.”
“You matter here.”
“I’m glad you survived.”
“I choose you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Maybe the saddest thing about people
is how many of us
carry entire oceans inside ourselves
just waiting
for a few gentle words
to finally feel real again.
For all the people who sit and wait for others to give them a compliment, or an apology, or a simple hello or goodbye. For the ones who deserve to be heard.
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