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There are two types of people in the world: those who prefer to be sad among others, and those who prefer to be sad alone.
I have learned now that while those who speak about one’s miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more.
Dear pillow, sorry for the tears. Dear heart, sorry for the damage. Dear brain, I should have listened.
I didn’t tell any of my friend, whom I love. Because, I don’t want them to laugh of at me, the day when she’ll be holding some other guy’s hand.
I hate when I have to pretend to be happy on the outside, when really I’m burning with pain on the inside.
All I wanted to do was collapse into someone’s arms and cry today. But there wasn’t anyone there to catch me.
There’s sometimes when someone hurts you so bad that you’re afraid to ever open the doors of your heart again.
You can’t laugh at the same joke again and again, but why do you keep crying over the same thing over and over again?
Sometimes I just want to give up, go crawl under my covers and cry myself to sleep. But I never tell anyone this because I know they won’t understand.