The Enchanted Unrequited

She had stopped asking for forever a long time ago. Not because she didn’t believe in love — but because she had tasted what it felt like to give everything and still not be chosen. What she craved wasn’t eternity anymore — it was just one day. One day where she could know, not imagine. One day where she wouldn’t have to wonder what it feels like to be loved like you’re the only one in the world. “Can I have you for just one day?” She didn’t say it loudly — it was more of a prayer than a question. “Just for one day… can you pretend I’m yours? Choose me, the way I’ve always chosen you… without pause, without fear, without conditions.One day where I wake up beside you, open my eyes and find yours already waiting… filled with love, not confusion. One day where I don’t have to wonder if I’m enough — because your arms say it all.” She wanted that morning. That moment. Waking up in his arms, the sunlight falling softly across the sheets, their legs tangled, the world quiet. His sleep...

It was a full moon night and Christmas Eve. The sky above was dressed in moonlight, the streets below glimmered with festive lights, and a cold hush wrapped the world like a soft blanket. But in her heart, something unfamiliar stirred — a quiet excitement, a tremble that came not from the winter, but from something about to begin. She didn’t go out looking for magic that night. But magic found her anyway — in the shape of him. He didn’t arrive with noise or chaos. He came softly, like a calm breeze that brushes your face without warning. His presence was not loud, but it lingered. The kind of presence that makes you forget the world for a moment — the kind you remember for a lifetime. There was something about the way he looked at her — not with desire, not with urgency, but with softness. And before he touched her, he asked for her permission. That one gesture — so small, so rare — melted something inside her. His lips on hers didn’t feel like fire. They felt stillness — like a la...

No one ever saw me bleeding, because my pain wasn’t visible. There were no bruises, no broken bones. Just this constant, quiet ache inside me that I carried every day. The kind of pain that doesn’t scream out loud but grows heavier in silence. The kind that makes you sit in a room full of people, smiling, laughing even — while inside, you’re barely holding yourself together. Most days, I pretended to be okay. I’d nod, say the right things, show up when I had to. But a part of me always wished someone would really look at me and ask, “Are you truly okay?” And mean it. Not out of politeness — but because they could feel something was off. Because they cared enough to notice. I loved people deeply. Gave them the best of me. I was always the one trying harder, holding on longer, giving more — hoping someone would do the same for me. But they didn’t. I loved like it was everything, and they received it like it was nothing. I stayed loyal, even when they grew distant. I gave warmth, even w...

The distance between us isn’t because I stopped loving you. It’s because I couldn’t keep watching your actions hurt me. I couldn’t bear seeing you do the very things I begged you not to. You said you gave me distance as you didn’t want to give me hope, but that hope was the only thing keeping me alive. Now, I choose to stay away—not because I hate you, but because being near you hurts more than I can handle and I will have hope. Yes you said that there is no fight between us; fights can be fixed, isn't it. But this can’t. The bond we shared is over, and you made that choice. You said you don't see me as your partner and I can't see you with anyone else as their partner, and hence I decided to walk out. People warned me about you—those who knew you well too said said you wouldn’t stand for me, that you weren’t the right man. But I didn’t listen. I kept choosing you, time and time again, because I believed in the love I saw in your eyes. Were they right about you? Maybe. ...

That evening, I gathered all the courage I had and confessed my feelings to him. I was terrified, afraid that my honesty would change everything between us. And it did. The night marked a turning point—he wasn’t the same with me, and I wasn't the same happy girl I use to be. I had always believed that being honest and loyal was the best way to be, but sometimes, I wonder if keeping your emotions hidden is the better choice, because not everyone can handle the truth. Love— should one express it or leave it unsaid? I still don’t have the answer. I never wanted to hurt him. I thought that by finally telling him how I felt, we could be closer. But instead, my confessions made him declare everything between us as a mistake. That crushed me. I wanted to say, “Can you just call what we had an open relationship and not friends with benefits?” Maybe that would make sense. Yes, you’re right. You never promised me anything, not a relationship, nor marriage, in the past four years. It...

The holiday season has a way of amplifying everything we feel we’re missing. While the world seems busy jetting off to exotic getaways, sharing snapshots of warm family gatherings, or dancing the night away with friends, here I am—curled up in my room, swirling a glass of wine, drowning in a tide of emotions I’ve kept at bay all year long. Loneliness? It sits heavily beside me. Stress? Looming like a storm cloud. Anxiety? On overdrive. Depression? Let’s not even go there. And then, there’s the absence of companionship—the sharpest ache of all. It feels like everyone’s paired up in these perfect, Instagram-worthy moments, while I’m just a spectator, scrolling, liking, and commenting with all the sincerity in my heart. No bitterness, just quiet acceptance. I’m happy for their joy, truly. But in the stillness, I can’t help but acknowledge my own emptiness. With each swirl of wine in my glass, I feel my emotions whirl alongside it. Is it the drink or the season that stirs this longing...

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 In the realm of unspoken emotions, a tale unfurled silently, etched within unsent messages and veiled sentiments. Veronica, an artisan of words, spun her feelings into unwritten narratives, hoping they'd traverse the digital distance and reach that Robot's heart. Their story unfolded in the quiet moments, in the unspoken silences that lingered after failed promises. Veronica's words, a symphony of love and disappointment, echoed in the void left by his absence. She tried to bridge the gap, reaching out when their bond wavered, but the Robot remained anchored in his own world, oblivious to the shards of their friendship scattering. Her musings penned on social media became cryptic clues to an unraveling connection, a love faltering amidst unmet expectations. The Robot, once moved by her emotional posts, had drifted away, leaving Veronica with unshared sentiments and a heart craving acknowledgment. With each unreturned call a...