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مشترکین
-824 ساعت
-617 روز
-36330 روز
آرشیو پست ها
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ممتلئٌ بكِ حتى لم يعد في رأسي مكانٌ لشيءٍ آخر. أصرخ في صمتٍ محاولًا أن أنساكِ، لكنكِ تلاحقين كل فكرةٍ تمر في ذهني. أحاول أن أنام، لكن أفكاري عنكِ لا تسمح لي بذلك. وكلما أغلقت عينيّ، أجدكِ في كل حلمٍ أراه.
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We kept moving from place to place, chasing a feeling that never stayed long enough to belong to us. The rooms changed, the faces changed, but the emptiness always found its way back. For a few hours, everything felt beautiful and distant at the same time. Then the morning came, and reality waited exactly where we left it. Maybe we were never looking for each other. Maybe we were just looking for a reason to keep running.
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We acted like something real was there between us, like the silence and the distance didn’t matter. Smiles replaced honesty, and presence replaced feeling, even though nothing inside was actually alive. It was easier to stay in that quiet illusion than to admit we were both just filling space. In the end, it wasn’t love we had—it was two people pretending not to notice it was never real.
