Sabrina
الذهاب إلى القناة على Telegram
Writing what my heart can’t forget. - My account : @Gi66ii Sit : @Zizmrt_bot
إظهار المزيدلم يتم تحديد البلدالفئة غير محددة
599
المشتركون
+2524 ساعات
+207 أيام
+2030 أيام
أرشيف المشاركات
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+1
She is the sun that illuminates your path, making you escape from your darkness into her light, embracing you tightly until her light penetrates your depths and transforms your darkness into whiteness
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𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒, 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽. 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒, 𝗆𝗒 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍. 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌— 𝗉𝖺𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾, 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝖦𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇, 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾
𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽
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+1
It was such a simple night, but somehow, those little moments are the ones that stay in my heart🤗
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The beautiful girl is always unhappy, as if she were drowning in a deep sea, the sound of the sea and the waves echoing in her depths, but she remains the beautiful girl
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I gave you a part of me I can never get back. You hurt me, and even though I still care, something inside me changed forever.
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𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝖨’𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾
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- Captured in a moment of pure bliss and utter relaxation There is a profound sense of peace that comes when a cat decides your lap or chest is the best place in the universe to sleep It’s not just companionship it’s a soul-deep comfort that grounds you instantly 🌟.
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You were just a quiet crush, someone I admired from a distance, someone who never knew what they meant to me. And now you exist only in the soft glow of what could have been. Losing you feels strange… like grieving a dream I never had the courage to touch. You became a memory before you ever
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I found a photograph of someone who no longer belongs to my life, and for a moment, I missed not the person, but the version of myself that existed beside them. Maybe some photographs hurt because they preserve a life we quietly outgrew.
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You keep asking if anyone else would die for you. But have you asked who actually lived for you? Who stayed when it was desert all around? Sometimes the biggest sacrifice is not dying, it's staying.
