There’s something profoundly painful about realizing that a small misunderstanding can unravel the truth of how someone really feels about you. It’s strange, isn’t it? How quickly a single moment can expose the undercurrent of thoughts people have quietly carried about you—thoughts you never imagined they held.
Makes the things that I thought important value just left as unnecessary.
I’ve always chosen people in my life with care. My circle is not just a group; it's a space I guard deeply. Letting someone into that space is not a casual act—it’s rooted in sincerity, intention, and hope. I value the people I keep close. I give them trust, warmth, and the comfort of being known.
Being bare is who I am....
So when that is thrown out the window—over a misjudgment, a silence, a reaction that cuts deep—it aches. It makes me question if the sincerity I pour out is seen, or if it's disposable. And what’s worse is not the misunderstanding itself, but what it uncovers: the unspoken truths, the assumptions, or worse, the indifference.
I don’t let people in easily. So when something falls apart, it’s not just disappointment—it’s personal. It makes me reflect on how much of me I gave, how vulnerable I allowed myself to be, and how casually it could all be dismissed.
It's a quiet kind of heartbreak. One that makes you feel both foolish and human.
But maybe this, too, is a form of protection. Maybe it’s Allah's way of showing what’s no longer meant to stay, of revealing hearts for what they truly are. Maybe in the ache, there’s clarity. And in the disappointment, there’s wisdom.
Still, it hurts.
Chits
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