alovesecrecy.

What Was Never Said Not every connection asks to be kept. We once shared the same rhythm — long days, laughter between tasks, a quiet trust built through the passing of time. Two people working toward the same goal, side by side, never crossing lines, but understanding the weight of each other’s silence. A daily dose of qaffeine . Sometimes, the closeness that builds in familiar spaces can blur the edges of meaning. And sometimes, it becomes necessary to draw them back. There were words left unsaid for a long time, until they finally found their way into the open. Calmly. Kindly. With no need for more. It wasn’t an ending to a friendship, the least. Just a pause — a gentle shift from something unspoken to something understood. And in that stillness, I learned that closure doesn’t always arrive with noise. Sometimes, it comes softly — like a door closing on its own, without echo or regret. Some truths are lighter once spoken, even when they arrive late.

After the echoes settle, we wait in the hush. The day marked, the heart remembered, and now there is only the space in between. A space where time slows—not because the world paused, but because I did. It’s November. The leaves have fallen. The noise has faded. And in the silence, I listen. I listen for the new home I’m moving into, for the peace I’ve been holding out for, for the version of myself that remains. I've come this far, patiently waiting yet for 2 more years. Storm and I trace shadows through the half-lit hallway of what will be. Whilst amidst the chaos, you are there in the quiet, in that soft presence that doesn’t demand explanation. Viper and Oak, the old patterns still flicker—but I am less moved now. Less carried. Less waiting for someone else to save me. Because survival is not just about holding on—it’s about gentle letting go. Here in this hush, I choose to breathe. And to believe that the things I carry will root me, not weigh me. The quiet that follow...

Silent Promises Some dates are soft echoes we carry without knowing why. Four years. Four autumns. Four quiet seasons since a day that now feels quietly sacred. The sugarrushhh feeling is still intact, and I hope that it stays for a long time. Some things are not measured in time, but in the way they quietly root themselves into who we are. This day is a reminder — of growth, of laughter, of weathering storms. Of holding onto something without needing to name it. Of finding peace in the simple act of choosing to stay. The years pass, but some moments remain untouched by time. October 10 is one of them. Here’s to the journey, in all its quiet strength. October 10 — a soft echo I carry with me, without need for words.

Things My Mind Wandered There comes a point when holding on does more damage than release. Letting go isn’t weakness — it’s survival dressed as surrender. I’ve spent nights wondering if love is meant to last, or if sometimes, it’s only meant to teach. The truth is, not every connection survives the storms. Some wither, some drift, and some leave scars too deep to forget. But I am learning: not everything broken needs fixing. Not everyone who leaves needs chasing. Not every goodbye needs a reason. Letting go is fragile. It hurts in silence. It feels like tearing yourself apart. But perhaps it is also the first step toward peace. And maybe, someday, I’ll thank myself for this release. For now, I carry the echo, and I move on.

Survival Mode Survival mode. That’s where I am now. Not thriving, not soaring — just holding on, one day at a time. Waiting for my own space in a couple of years feels like waiting for a lifeline, a place where I can finally breathe again. A place where the walls will no longer whisper of the past but instead hold only the silence of peace. I hope Romeo lasts with me until then. I want to keep him without worrying that one day he’ll be gone. The toxicity is surreal, two-faced — but for once, I want to be selfish. To prolong this, until what comes may. Viper and Oak… perhaps they’re okay? It feels as if nothing happened. So much drama. Now it doesn’t feel strange to admit that I am done. It’ll just leave another scar. Oak, though — he’s so pathetic and weak. Too cowardly to hold up his end of the storm. And I’m left wondering how much longer I can keep carrying the weight of others when I barely have enough strength for myself. Survival mode means not collapsing, even when my mind th...

Butterfly Of everyone I have lost, it is Butterfly I miss the most. Her absence feels louder in moments like these — when  Oak  is left standing against storms he should never have to endure. How I wish she was still here, to bring balance, to bring calm, to soften the edges of a house that now feels broken. She would have known how to steady him, how to guide him, how to remind him of love that is gentle. Instead, he faces Viper . I watched in anger as she raised her voice, as doors slammed, as she pushed a man who already carries a heart too fragile to bear more weight. No one deserves that — not even Oak. Yes, it is true — he reaps what he has sown. This is not his first remarriage, and perhaps the choices of the past have brought him to this moment. But never, never to this extent. I find myself hoping he lets go, that he finds the strength to cut away what poisons instead of heals. I hope he chooses peace over chaos, because life is too short ...