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Melting words #she

 It is an Instagram page that I like most.
 and this post is relatable more than anything.

maybe I have to read this now and then.

this post absolutely felt like me.

She was weird. She pretended to be a tigress, but she had a heart of a fluffy little kitten. She was just adorable, too sweet for this world. And she knew this. She learned it the hard way. She was too nice to too many people who took advantage of her soft heart and caring soul. She was angry. She was frustrated. But she still could not change that beautiful heart. It was still too pure. And people kept on playing with her emotions. So to save herself, she faked to be extra strong, emotionless, and just savage. It made her sound rude to people. Even she felt that she was being bad to people. But then she was happy that at least she was in peace now. Alone, vulnerable, weak, a mess, but there was peace in that loneliness. Was she happy? Not really. She was always at war with herself. There were always a million things in her head. And this made her a volcano wrapped in smiling paper.


And at times, this madness, this smile, this laughter, and this savage attitude, it all just tires up her soul. She feels drowned under the weight of her own boundaries. She does not let it out. So it all keeps building inside her. She has pushed away almost all people. Some deserved it. And with some, she was just too scared to come close. So it gets too lonely at times. She has no one to go to. She has no one to hug and cry. She has no one to go and say “I feel terribly weak. Please save me.” But outside, she still pretends to be that extra-strong girl who does not need anyone. So when the mood swings continue, when the frustration keeps piling up, and when she gets ruder in her tongue with each day, she realizes that she can break down into a million pieces, anytime now. And when she reaches that point, she shuts the door on everyone. She ignores everything and everyone, no calls, no texts, and no meetings. She just vanishes, to feel weak, to cry, and to heal. It’s like her soul needs refueling. And after that break, she comes back, with the same happy smile. All good? Not at all. But good enough to fight again. That’s her story. She is fire. She is ashes. And then, she is fire again.



~ @rkupclose


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