Evlenirsen pişman olursun. Evlenmezsen de pişman olursun. Çocuk yapsan da yapmasan da pişman olursun. Kierkegaard bunu 200 yıl önce şöyle söylemiştir:
"Neyi seçersen seç pişman olursun. Çünkü sorun tercihlerinde değil yaşanmamış bir hayatı romantize etmendir. İnsan her daim gidilmemiş bir yolu cazibeli ve gizemli bulur. Bu yüzden mesele en doğru seçimi yapman değil. Hangi pişmanlıkla yaşayacağını seçip karar vermendir."
Sen neye karar verdin?
It's strange how some people can disappear from your life completely and still occupy a room inside your mind for years.
You stop talking.
You stop seeing them.
Life keeps moving.
New routines form. New faces appear. Entire chapters begin and end.
And yet, every now and then, something small brings them back.
A certain time of night.
A familiar phrase.
A song you weren't expecting to hear.
And suddenly, they are standing in your thoughts as if no time has passed at all.
Most people assume this happens because you never stopped loving them.
But that's not always true.
Sometimes the people who stay with us the longest are not the ones we loved the most.
They're the ones who touched a part of us we didn't fully understand at the time.
Maybe they arrived when you felt unseen.
Maybe they understood something you never had words for.
Maybe they represented a version of life you thought you were about to have.
Whatever it was, they became attached to something deeper than memory.
They became attached to meaning.
And meaning is much harder to forget than a person.
That's why time can feel so confusing.
You can go months without thinking about them.
Then one quiet moment brings everything rushing back, and you wonder if you've secretly been carrying them all along.
The truth is, you probably have.
Not as a daily longing.
Not as an unfinished love story.
But as a chapter that helped shape who you became.
One of the hardest things to accept is that the mind doesn't keep people based on importance alone.
It keeps people based on emotional impact.
Some people spend years beside us and leave almost no trace.
Others stay for a short while and rearrange something inside us forever.
The real reason certain people linger isn't that you're unable to move on.
It's that part of your identity was built around what you felt when they were there.
And every time you reconnect with that feeling, you reconnect with them.
That's why trying to forget often fails.
You cannot erase someone who became part of your emotional landscape.
You can only learn to visit the memory without living there.
Eventually, something changes.
You stop missing the person.
You stop replaying the conversations.
You stop wondering what could have been.
But the memory remains.
Softer now.
Quieter.
Less like a wound and more like a scar.
And maybe that's what healing actually looks like.
Not forgetting.
Not replacing.
Not pretending it never mattered.
Just reaching a point where their name no longer echoes through your life...
yet a small part of you still nods when your heart remembers.
maturing is realizing none of us are easy to be with. It's about who's willing to stay committed to understanding you and actually wants to grow with you
“Mi papá solía enfadarse tanto cada vez que mi mamá compraba una taza (las colecciona) y su nuevo novio literalmente le construyó una pared para mostrar su colección, esta es la razón por la que no hay que conformarnos con menos de lo que merecemos”
moi je pense réellement qu’on peut mourir a cause d’une rupture..
en 2024 ça a été les pires mois de ma vie, je commence seulement à tourner la page maintenant, ça a été horrible et j’ai vraiment cru que j’allais mourir tellement je souffrais
Nothing beats the pure, uncontained joy of a little donkey when he realizes it is time for breakfast. That big, funny smile is absolutely contagious and will brighten any day
You call her toxic now.
But you met her when she was kind, open, and trusting. Before the lies. Before the betrayal. Before she had to protect herself from you. She became guarded because you kept hurting her.
She became reactive because you kept crossing lines. She became tired because she kept choosing you while you chose yourself. That wasn't toxicity. That was damage.
And expecting her to stay soft after everything you put her through is the real denial. You didn't lose a good woman. You changed her, then blamed her for the result.
You broke her trust, you bruised her heart, and now you're shocked she's not the same person you fell for.
Newsflash: she's not the one who's changed; your perspective has. You're seeing the effects of your actions and calling it her problem.
She's not toxic; she's wounded.
And instead of owning up to the hurt you caused, you're gaslighting her into thinking she's the flawed one.
Own it. You hurt someone who loved you, and now she's protecting herself from further pain.
That's not toxicity; that's self-preservation.
And if you can't see the damage you've done, that's on you.
"It’s ok to be wrong. To own the mistake. To say, 'Yeah, I messed up.' It doesn’t make you weak—it makes you honest. And always needing to be 'right' keeps you stuck. Being wrong is how you learn. How you grow. So just be wrong. Take responsibility. Own it." @coolurbanhippie