alovesecrecy.

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 ...

Oak & Viper Oak stands firm, unbending, rooted deep in the ground, a figure of strength and permanence. Yet his branches do not always shelter, and his silence can feel heavy. Beside him coils Viper — sharp, watchful, dangerous in her quiet. A presence that teaches caution, a reminder that not every closeness is safe. Together they form a part of my story, not always gentle, not always kind, but still a part of the forest I grew from.

Holding Space I’ve carried so much inside me for so long, so many feelings left unspoken, so many burdens quietly held. And yet, when I needed it most, you two were there — Luna and Ember. Even though our relationship as siblings has never been simple or easy, even though distance and misunderstanding have always lingered, you stepped up. You heard me. You saw my exhaustion. You took over, becoming the caretakers for Storm when I could not. Not out of obligation, but out of understanding, out of care, out of love — however imperfect it may be. Even when I spoke about cutting ties, even when I considered going completely solo for the sake of my sanity, you didn’t judge. You encouraged me to do what I needed for my mental health, to reclaim myself, even if it meant stepping away from family. I have held this in for far too long. It wasn’t easy to share my truth, to admit my vulnerability, to let someone in on feelings I rarely voice. Pride tells me to stay silent, but...

Finding Myself Again In the quiet after letting go, I realize how much of myself I have lost along the way. Pieces scattered, heart heavy, mind clouded with too many storms. Now, it is time to return to myself. To gather what has been broken, to feel whole again, to learn how to smile without forcing it, to love myself in ways I once forgot. I know it won’t be easy. Some days I will stumble, some nights I will question, but I will stand up again. Stronger. Wiser. Ready for whatever may come. Above all, I want my sanity back. I want my peace. And I will fight for it — not against the world, but for myself.

Letting Go Today, I made one of the hardest decisions of my journey — to let go of Storm. It is not a choice made out of weakness, but out of care. For my own peace of mind, and for the well-being of Storm, this felt like the path I needed to take. There is a strange balance in my heart right now — a quiet sense of relief, yet not much happiness. Letting go has its own kind of ache. But deep inside, I know it is the right step, at least for now. This isn’t goodbye forever. I will still get to see Storm, still hear the updates, still carry the presence close in my thoughts. And maybe, when the time is right and I am truly ready, there will be a chance to cross paths again — to reunite in a way that feels whole. For now, I will hold on to gratitude — for the memories, for the lessons, and for the love that remains even in distance. Breathe in, breathe out.

10 Numbers are everywhere, but some carry weight only we know. This one, in particular, quietly marks a beginning, a promise, and a journey that keeps unfolding. No need for big words — just gratitude for what it stands for. Here’s to the little reminders, the milestones tucked away in time, and the journey that continues. A number, ordinary to most, yet quietly etched in the corners of my heart. It marks a beginning, a rhythm, a thread of time woven softly into days. No need for declarations, just a silent knowing — that every 10th will always mean more. Happy 10th.

The Cure of Forgetting Maybe if I lost my memories, everything would finally make sense. No Storm to haunt me. No weight to carry. No echoes of battles I never chose. A clean slate. An empty sky. Silence where thunder used to live. But memory is cruel. It clings, it burns, it refuses to loosen its grip. And so I wake each day, wishing for a forgetting that never comes. Maybe memory loss would solve everything. Or maybe— it would only erase me along with the pain. 

Au Revoir.                                                                                                                                    It’s never easy to say goodbye, especially to someone who’s brought so much joy both on and off the pitch. From futsal sessions to tournament days, it has truly been an honour to play alongside you, Laura. Your passion, spirit, and sportsmanship will be dearly missed here. Though you’re heading back to France for good, the memories we’ve shared will always stay with us. Thank you for the laughter, the teamwork, and the moments that made the game so much more than j...

The Hallucination Sometimes, I dream that Storm isn’t mine to carry. That the skies are clear, that the weight has finally lifted, that I can breathe without lightning chasing me. In that hallucination, Storm is only a memory— a whisper I can walk away from, a shadow that never lingers. But reality is cruel. Reality reminds me— Storm is still here. Loud. Heavy. Unrelenting. I tell myself she is not my burden. I chant it like a prayer, a fragile shield against the downpour. Yet the truth strikes harder than thunder: Storm is, and always will be, the weight I never asked for, the cross I never chose. And maybe the hardest part is knowing I can only pretend for so long.

You're too much, Storm I never wanted this. Not then, not now. Yet here I am again, dragged into tempests that aren’t mine to weather. Storm was never supposed to be part of my story. But somehow, she keeps breaking into chapters I never agreed to. Every time I try to close the book, storm forces it open. Every time I choose silence, storm creates thunder. I am tired. Of the weight. Of the cycles. Of being made to feel responsible for chaos I never chose. This is not my burden. It never was. It never will be. And maybe one day, Storm will learn— that forcing yourself on someone’s path doesn’t make you belong there. Until then, I will keep walking. Through rain, through winds, towards my own peace.