love me LOUDLY

why does this hurt so much?

because you weren’t made to feel this invisible.

you were made to be felt. remembered. chosen.

that sentence alone… hurts.

because you shouldn’t have to undertake something so heavy alone just to keep someone around.

it’s okay to feel this deeply.

loving someone and feeling unseen or uncared for in return, especially when you’re giving your all.

it’s that you’re longing for the same energy, thoughtfulness, and love to be poured back into you. wanting to be cherished, remembered, prioritized.

hoping to matter to someone who matters so much to you. and it’s painful to keep showing up for someone while watching them effortlessly do for others what you silently wish they’d do for you.

your heart is aching, listen to it. not to punish yourself or spiral.

you’ve been dimming your needs for the sake of love. and love. real love, shouldn’t make you feel that small.

voicing it could risk the relationship or make you feel vulnerable in ways you’re not ready for.

now you carrying the weight of being overlooked, of loving deeply but not being met with the same energy. that kind of sadness sinks into your chest, it makes everything feel foggy, like you’re walking through life with a quiet ache no one else can see. and that’s an incredibly lonely place to be.

to survive a situation, we don’t actually escape the pain, we bury it. and buried feelings have a way of growing in the dark.

slowly fading version of you that once felt excited, present, hopeful.

you’re grieving what you wish you had, not just what’s happening now. you’re mourning the version of love you deserve but haven’t received.

and that grief is real.

let yourself speak it somewhere. journal. cry. scream into a pillow. talk to someone who sees you. don’t silence yourself to stay in a place that forgets to love you loudly.

“i’m hurting, but i’m still here.”

“i deserve more, even if i don’t feel it yet.”

“this pain will not last forever.”

and it won’t.

you’ll rise from this. not overnight. but slowly. bravely. fully.

and your future self will thank you for honoring your heart, even in its most fragile state.

you’re not alone in this.

not now. not ever.

you’re ready to shift from surviving to healing, even if just in little steps.