should we ever meet again
I hope it happens when it rains
like a scene from a romantic movie
our hearts might turn empty

I hope you'll be doing better than me;
once I hoped the exact opposite
I wanted you to be down in the dumps
like a person laden with parasites

but seems I've matured now
I let go of all feelings sour
I write poetry thinking of you
yes, of course I still do

perhaps we'll laugh when our eyes meet
it could be at a mutual friend's wedding
I'll probably walk you all the way to the street
we'll say our goodbyes, our lips smiling

you know I wouldn't go back to the wedding
instead I'd be getting drunk at a bar nearby
my mind filled with the sweetest memories of you'
it'll be my death all over again
should we ever meet again...

This past year has been one of the hardest, as I’ve had to navigate the pain of getting over someone I deeply loved. The journey of mending a broken heart has been anything but straightforward. Yet through the struggle, I’ve found that healing isn’t about erasing the love I felt, but about rediscovering myself through the loss.

Heartbreak forces me to confront vulnerability and unearth the resilience that often goes unnoticed in times of happiness. I’ve learned that love, in its intensity, is not just about giving, but also knowing when to let go.

True healing begins not when I forget the person, but when I grow beyond the shadow of the relationship. It’s a process of cultivating self-compassion and nurturing independence, not by denying the pain, but by embracing it. Through suffering, I forge new strength.

Moving forward requires a shift in perspective. Rather than seeing the end of love as failure, I now view it as a transition into self-discovery. It’s an opportunity to reevaluate my values, redefine my aspirations, and focus on the life I wish to create; one rooted in joy, purpose, and fulfillment. Growth may be uncomfortable, but it is through discomfort that I flourish.

I’ve come to understand that love does not abandon; it transforms. It invites me to love myself more fully, to seek happiness from within, and to anchor my well-being in my own spirit. Closure isn’t a single moment; it’s a series of small releases, each loosening the grip of the past.

The first step is acceptance; acknowledging that love, like all things, changes. What once connected us now drifts apart, not out of malice, but from the natural course of life. We are beings in motion, evolving, and sometimes our paths diverge.

I’ve learned to embrace the silence that follows absence. It’s tempting to fill the void with distractions, but in solitude, I’ve found clarity. Sitting with my pain and letting it unravel at its own pace has shown me that the heart has an incredible capacity for healing when given the space to breathe. Each tear is a testament to the depth of my love, not a weakness.

Time, I’ve realized, isn’t the healer; awareness is. Time will pass regardless, but it’s the moments of self-reflection and introspection that allow me to break free from old memories. Pain is not a punishment, but a lesson, each heartbreak teaching me more about myself, my desires, and the love I want and deserve.

Moving on is, in its own way, an act of faith. It requires me to let go of the past and open my heart to the unknown, trusting that something new awaits. In the gentle release, I’ve found peace. By not clinging to what was, I’ve made space for what might be.

The greatest lesson, though, is that love doesn’t belong to anyone but myself. The love I gave and received remains within me, undiminished. Though the person I shared it with is no longer beside me, the essence of that love is a part of who I am and who I will continue to become.

This journey has taught me that getting over someone isn’t about forgetting them; it’s about remembering who I am without them. It’s about finding the strength to move forward, with grace, knowing that love will find me again, perhaps when I least expect it.

—

Healing isn’t forgetting,
It’s growing through the loss.
Love changes, not abandons,
And I rediscover myself.

In silence, clarity sprouts,
Each tear is a mark of strength.
Moving on means letting go,
And making space for what’s next.

— Sincerely, Boris

There is a delicate art in facing fear. In the quiet spaces of my mind, I have often grappled with those deep-seated anxieties; the ones that linger beyond the obvious, like my childhood fear of heights, spiders, or bees. But fear, I’ve come to understand, is not simply an instinctual response; it is an illusion that seeks to disrupt our natural course, distorting reality and filling it with false limitations.

As I reflect on my personal fears, like the fear of disappointing those I love, the fear of being alone, or even the inevitable reality of death, I realize that these emotions, though real, are often exaggerated by a part of me that clings to control. They take root in uncertainty, feeding on the unknown, and that’s where they derive their power. Yet, the key to overcoming these fears lies not in fighting them directly, but in acknowledging them and seeing them for what they are; illusions designed to keep me from my personal growth.

Fear of failure, of not living up to expectations, can be paralyzing. It has, at times, made me doubt my ability to be a good father or to navigate the complexities of relationships. But what I’ve learned is that fear does not define me. It may attempt to impose narratives about inadequacy or isolation, but these stories are not truths; they are interpretations. I do not have to live by them.

The first step is recognizing when fear begins to speak. In those moments, instead of letting it drive my actions, I can choose to stand firm in my understanding of self. Fear may try to whisper that I am alone, or that I might not be enough for those I hold dear, but I now realize that these whispers are merely echoes of past insecurities. They are not the voice of my reality.

To truly cast out fear, I must strip away its falsehoods, stand grounded in my values, and recognize my strength, not in spite of fear, but because I have faced it. By dismantling the illusion, I can step forward confidently, knowing that while fear may exist, it holds no dominion over my choices, my identity, or my future.

In this understanding, I reclaim a more profound sense of peace. Fear is simply a shadow. And while it may darken parts of my journey, it can never overcome the light of my inner strength unless I let it. The power lies within me to confront fear, not with force, but with clarity. And in that clarity, fear begins to dissolve.

—

In the darkness where fear resides,
A whisper calls, a truth confides.
Don’t flee the shadows, don’t turn away,
Embrace the fear, let it have its say.

In uncertainty’s grip, we often freeze,
Yet within that tightness lies the key to ease.
Open your heart, let the emotion of fear flow,
In vulnerability, true courage will grow.

Fear, a teacher with lessons so profound,
In the quiet depths, strength can be found.
Befriend the fear, dance with its might,
For when the moment passes;
we will see the light.

I was born into a world of fear,
Where I grew up to hide my tears.
No steady hands to guide my way,
Only scattered paths I learned to face.
In madness, I sought to comprehend
A life that shifted without end.

I grew too fast, too much to bear,
The weight of truths placed in my care.
Yet through the bruises, I made my stand,
A way to live beyond demand.

No longer tied to what was given,
I carved a path, my own, forgiven.
It wasn’t just to survive the fall,
But to rise and live beyond it all.

Kindness starts within,
where wounds are tender.
When you heal yourself,
you’ll understand others better.

Stay present in the moments
when pain calls your name.
Don’t flee, don’t fight; just stay.
In stillness, strength is quietly gained.

Let your heart remain open,
no matter how it feels.
In the practice of courage,
your spirit gently heals.

— Sincerely, Boris

In my journey through the depths of human emotion, I have come to understand the necessity of embracing the full spectrum of feelings. I have learned that to truly live, I must allow myself to feel every emotion, without judgment or resistance. There is no hierarchy of feelings; joy, sadness, fear, and pleasure are all woven into the fabric of my being. To reject any part of this tapestry is to reject a part of myself.

Through this reflection, I see that emotional wholeness is not the absence of pain but the willingness to meet it with compassion. When I honor the discomforts that arise, I am granted deeper access to the richness of life, and it is here that I find meaning. Avoiding pain may offer temporary relief, but it denies me the opportunity to grow and evolve.

This path requires vulnerability; an openness not only with others but with myself. I must release the need for control and certainty, accepting that uncertainty and imperfection are intrinsic to human existence. By surrendering to this truth, I find the freedom to be authentic, present, and fully engaged with the world.

In relationships, I realize that emotional intimacy flourishes when both individuals can sit with their own feelings and, by extension, hold space for the feelings of others. The bonds I seek are forged not through avoiding discomfort but through the courage to be seen as I am, in both light and darkness within me.

I have come to understand that emotions are guides, not enemies. They are here to teach me, to lead me toward deeper understanding, connection, and transformation. It is through feeling it all; without numbing, without denial; that I find true liberation.

—

Each emotion has its space,
each one part of what makes us human.
I carry them all,
not as weight,
but as the colors of life.

In feeling them, I find peace;
not by pushing them away,
but by living through each one.

—Sincerely, Boris

For 14 years, I carried the burden of a relationship that, in its quiet cruelty, convinced me I was unworthy; a terrible husband, an inattentive father, a poor friend. Gaslit into self-doubt, I was made to believe that my flaws were responsible for the chaos. Yet, in truth, I was supporting a person who had every opportunity to stand on her own, but chose instead to lean into a narrative that kept her dependent and me in a cycle of sacrifice.

I was misled, tricked into doubting my loyalty as a friend, while I poured my best self into those I loved, calling them family. I was told I was failing as a father because I worked hard to provide, even though I always gave my daughter the fullness of my time and care, from reading bedtime stories to cooking meals and being present in the moments that truly mattered. Meanwhile, the person I shared my life with had next to no friends, no passions, no sense of fulfillment beyond the image she presented to the world.

The resentment I held onto was not born from singular events but from the accumulation of years spent sleeping on couches and floors, excluded from intimacy, and trapped in a performance of a marriage that lacked love. I poured time, money, and energy into preserving a façade that was never real. This false perception; of her, of us; was a thief that robbed me of my peace.

Letting go of this resentment does not mean I dismiss the past, but it does mean I reclaim the part of me that was buried beneath it. I must understand that control is often an illusion; the more I clung to the idea that I could change the outcome, the more I suffered. True freedom lies in accepting that life, and the people in it, are unpredictable. I cannot change who she was or how she treated me, but I can choose how I respond now.

Forgiveness, too, is not for her; it is a gift I give to myself. To hold onto anger, to nurture resentment, is to keep myself in chains long after the relationship has ended. I release that weight because my healing demands it, and my future deserves it.

As I look toward the future, I must embrace the present. The past, though painful, is no longer my prison; it is a foundation, a set of lessons that have fortified my resilience. My life now is a canvas I will fill with intention and authenticity, building upon the wisdom gained from the trials I’ve endured.

I have come to understand that letting go is not merely an act of forgetting, but a deliberate choice to free myself from the grip of the past, releasing the emotional weight that has bound me for too long. It requires an intimate confrontation with pain; not in the form of denial or suppression; but in a way that allows me to honor what has shaped me without letting it define the man I am becoming.

The art of letting go, then, is not about erasing what has been, but about stepping into what is to come; with grace, peace, and open arms.

—

In a marriage built on illusions,
I lost pieces of myself,
Fighting to fit into a mold
That never reflected my truth.

Each sacrifice, a silent echo,
A yearning for connection
In a world of empty gestures.

Years passed, buried in doubt,
While destroying my spirit.
Until I knew it was time to leave,
To reclaim the life that I deserve.

With every step away from that past,
I peeled back the layers of shame,
Finding strength in my vulnerability,
And a voice that had long been hushed.

Now, I walk a path that is my own,
Embracing the unknown with open arms,
Each day a chance to rebuild,
To honor the lessons learned,
And to celebrate the man I am destined to be.

No longer defined by what I lost,
I stand in the warmth of possibility,
With a heart ready to heal,
And a spirit renewed,
Ready to live fully,
In the truth of my own story.

— Sincerely, Boris

While i can respect your opinion
Don't expect me to agree with them

While you aim for life with normalcy
I want a life with excellency

While you want laugh and go crazy everyday
I want to live meaningful life for myself and the world

While you want to exist and have fun
I want to live and do something to be remembered for



You want to be one of those millions
While I want to be the one in a million

Many of my struggles stem not from external forces but from within, from patterns of self-sabotage that I once thought were beyond my control. It’s recently become very clear to me that these moments of inner resistance I have struggled with, these times when I seem to work against my own best interests, are not random. They are my mind and body’s way of protecting me from what feels unfamiliar or too overwhelming to face.

Personal growth, I’ve come to realize, has demanded not only patience but also the courage to confront these barriers inside of me. The obstacles I encounter aren’t meant to be avoided or fought. Rather, they are reminders that within every challenge, there’s an invitation to dig deeper, to look at my doubts, anxieties, and limiting beliefs, and to dismantle them.

This journey of mine is about mastering myself, not in the sense of becoming perfect, but in learning to be compassionate with my flaws, understanding where they come from, and allowing the proper space for my own evolution. I’ve learned that healing and progress come when I stop seeing my emotions as problems to fix and begin seeing them as messages guiding me toward what I truly need.

The transformation comes in the shift from self-sabotage to self-mastery. It requires me to take responsibility, to recognize that I am both the source of my struggles and the architect of my liberation. With this awareness, I can start to rebuild, step by step, by accepting where I am, forgiving myself for past mistakes, and slowly reorienting my life toward what truly aligns with my purpose. Mastery is not control; it is surrender to personal growth.

—

I am the mountain I must climb,
The stone I stumble on is mine.
Not to resist, but to take place,
The path ahead, I must face.

The fear I feel, the doubt I bear,
Are voices calling for self-repair.
In every challenge, a chance to rise,
To meet the truth behind disguise.

The road is long, the path I’ll clear,
With every step I dissolve the fear.
For in each wound, I heal and grow,
My heart learns what the mind can’t know.

— Sincerely, Boris

Love, in all its varied forms, has shaped me. It is through love that I have discovered the complexities of friendship, the exhilaration and heartache of romance, and the beauty of self-discovery. The years have taught me that love is not confined to the romantic ideals we often hold in our youth, but rather, it permeates every facet of life; friendship, family, and, perhaps most importantly, the love we cultivate within ourselves.

Through friendships, I learned the art of companionship, the silent language of loyalty, and the sharp pain of betrayal. Friends are the scaffolding upon which the architecture of my life has been built, and though time may weather those bonds, I understand now that each connection serves its purpose; either to uplift or to teach.

Romantic love, for all its allure, often presents itself as a mirror reflecting back our deepest insecurities and desires. It is within the pursuit of love that I have faltered, my heart at times shattered by misplaced trust or unfulfilled promises. Yet, I have come to see that the true tragedy of love is not its ending, but the missed opportunities to grow alongside someone who enriches you, rather than diminishes you.

In the midst of seeking external validation, I realized that the most profound relationship is the one I have with myself. Self-love, often overlooked, is the foundation upon which all other forms of love must be built. It is in moments of solitude that I have found clarity, understanding that I must first learn to stand alone before I can truly stand with others.

Life’s most valuable lessons are delivered not in grand epiphanies, but in the quiet moments; through friendships that evolve, through relationships that end, and through the resilience we muster in solitude. What remains is the awareness that love, in its many forms, is less about perfect outcomes and more about the journey; the vulnerability, the joy, and the inevitable pain that accompanies it.

Each encounter, whether fleeting or enduring, has etched itself into the fabric of who I am. And from this, I have learned that love, above all else, is a choice; one we must make with grace, courage, and, perhaps most of all, with a deep sense of compassion for ourselves.

—

Before I stand with you,
I must stand with myself;
In quiet corners of solitude,
Where no hand holds mine,
And no voice echoes back my worth.

I must be whole,
Not seeking refuge in another’s eyes,
But rooted in the soil of my own soul,
Blooming from the love I give within.

Only then,
With steady hands and open heart,
Can I walk beside you,
Not as half seeking whole,
But as one who knows how to love;
By first loving me.

— Sincerely, Boris