Maybe Unique

There comes a point in life when you realise you’ve been holding onto something without even noticing it—waiting for someone to acknowledge the hurt they caused, to admit they were wrong, to give you the apology you believed would finally let you breathe again. I spent a long time waiting for mine.  I replayed conversations in my head, imagined confrontations that never happened, and held onto this quiet hope that one day they would finally understand the weight of their actions. At the time, it felt right to wait, as if their apology was the missing piece that would make everything settle. But the longer I waited, the more I realised I was expecting something from someone who wasn’t capable of giving it little bit apology. Some people simply don’t apologise—not because you don’t deserve it, but because they lack the emotional maturity to confront their own behaviour. Some don’t recognise the damage they caused, some refuse to take responsibility, and some know exactly what they di...

Hey everyone, We often imagine healing as something soft, peaceful, and beautifully arranged. We picture calm mornings, sunlight flowing through a window, steady breaths, yoga poses, journals filled with gratitude, and a mind that feels balanced. And yes, sometimes healing has moments that look like that. But most of the time, healing shows up in ways that are far from the image we see online. The truth is simple: healing doesn’t always look beautiful. “Healing is not what you see on the surface. It’s what you survive beneath it.” The raw parts of healing are rarely spoken about. These are the moments that are not photographed, shared, or celebrated. They are the nights when you’re awake at 3 a.m., overthinking everything you thought you had already moved past. They are the mornings when you pull yourself out of bed despite feeling emotionally heavy. They are the days when you still show up for work, for life, and for yourself—quietly choosing to keep going even when it feels diffic...

  "Some stories don’t end — they just stop mid-sentence and keep echoing inside us." Some people leave us mid-sentence, mid-argument, or mid-smile. And in those small, unexpected moments of ending, a strange silence begins — not the kind that’s empty, but the kind that carries the weight of everything left unsaid makes up unhappy. It hums quietly in the background of our days, following us like a shadow we can’t shake off. It’s not always the dramatic goodbyes that hurt the most. Sometimes, it’s the conversations we never got to finish — the ones interrupted by ego, by time, or by fate. The words that stayed in your throat, the messages that ended on “typing…,” the calls that went unanswered. They linger in the corners of your mind, asking questions that will never find their replies. You keep wondering what could’ve happened if you had one more moment — just one more chance to explain, to apologize, or to simply say, “I’m still here.” But life doesn’t always allow closur...

Hey everyone, Welcome to my new blog - There’s a strange kind of silence that follows when someone leaves. Not the heavy, dramatic silence you see in movies — but the soft kind, the one that hums quietly in the background of your days. It’s in the room was filled with the laughter of smiles, the shuffle of slippers in the hallway, the faint echo of voices that you swear you still hear sometimes. You don’t always miss people through photos or words; sometimes, you miss them through habits — tiny, ordinary things that used to fill the corners of your life and your heart. When someone you love becomes part of your everyday rhythm, their presence seeps into everything. It’s in how they light up your day, in how they left the music playing just a little too loud, in the way they walk funny or left the door slightly open. And when they go — whether by distance, time, or fate — it’s these small, familiar details that ache the most. I remember a time when life felt impossible without a certain...