Is this real?

Notes from a dark and intense period, capturing raw and unfiltered thoughts while navigating through a time of profound struggle and emotional turmoil

I don't even know what to say. What to write. What to feel.

What is love, really? Real love.

Once, there was a love. A love that filled both the soul and the body. The kind that consumes you entirely. The kind that burns with intensity, firing up something deep inside. The kind that feels like home - so deeply that it gives a life purpose, sets goals, and drives you toward them, little by little, step by step. Without realising, that love grows and becomes the center of everything, more important than anything else in the Universe. It gains (wrongly or not) more importance than all the other galaxies together.

And then the storm comes. From one moment to the other, everything is gone: dreams destroyed; innocence vanished. The vibrant, well-intentioned and colourful world crumbled. Life itself is questioned. The flame of love is carried away by salty tears and the weight of a broken heart. Ah, the broken heart. The empty soul. The body that moves without feeling, like a machine. The will, the joy, the excitement - they all go, as if they have fallen into the void.

It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t need to be. It never had to be. But despite it all, it was always worth it.

Once upon a time, there was an innocent boy from a very small town with a pure heart. That boy is shattered into pieces. But he is fighting - every single day - to put them back together. He will rise again. Shine, maybe. But for now, all that remains is the pain.