I used to think that love was supposed to be loud. That it had to come with grand gestures, fireworks, and sweeping declarations — the kind that make your heart…
I always thought love had to arrive like a thunderstorm—loud, intense, and impossible to ignore. But what I didn’t realize was that sometimes, love grows quietly, like the first rays…
I used to think running was my superpower. Not the kind where you win medals or cross finish lines, but the invisible kind—running from things that scared me, from pain,…
I always believed that love stories were for other people. You know, the ones who looked effortlessly put together, with their perfect smiles and their perfect lives. Me? I was…
I used to think love was something you earned — like a reward for being perfect. Perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect attitude. I thought you had to be someone extraordinary…
They tell you love feels like butterflies. And maybe it does, at first — the fluttering in your stomach when their name lights up your phone, the rush of warmth…
I always believed that love was made of grand gestures—bouquets of red roses, fireworks in the night sky, or handwritten letters that smelled of old paper and promise. But when…
I’ve always believed that love isn’t found in grand gestures or carefully orchestrated moments. It’s found in the quiet things—the lingering glance, the laugh that escapes without warning, the smile…
I always thought love stories needed grand gestures—roses, candlelit dinners, maybe even handwritten letters tucked into coat pockets. But ours? It started in silence. And somehow, that made it even…
The first thing I noticed about him was his silence. Not the kind of silence that screams of arrogance or shyness, but the kind that feels like a soft lullaby…