Quench the soul of the passion that consumes it inside
“The night is the preamble... to quench the soul of the passion that consumes it inside... ”
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“The night is the preamble... to quench the soul of the passion that consumes it inside... ”
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"She is not difficult to love because she was born cold. She became this way because too many hands reached for her without kindness in them. Too many promises arrived dressed as safety and ended as pain. What people now call distance, mistrust, or emotional weight is not some flaw stitched into her nature. It is the scar tissue left by surviving what should have never touched her in the first place.
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Women cheat too. Not always with their bodies. Sometimes with their silence. Their energy. The slow, quiet exit nobody names because her clothes are still in the wardrobe and she's still making the coffee and everything looks fine from the outside, which is precisely the problem.
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A morning boost for you ☀️ Do you know that 90% of overthinking is not related to intelligence but with fear you have become accustomed to living with it?
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"You can put distance with that person who disturbs us... but restlessness will always be very close to the soul... ” (Lover of Lyrics).
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How do I explain to the world what He makes me feel... How can I tell you that I am your property and I am at your full disposal... Let him do what he wants to do with me, I just want to please him and give him my best.
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I am in love, how do I know? it's simple, when I walk alone on the street I go with few friends, antisocial without smiling or showing kindness,
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🔥 IDENTIFYING A WOUNDED WIFE 🔥 There are wounds that don't bleed... but they govern decisions. There are smiles that appear peace... but they hide civil wars. And there are wives who are still standing... but inside they are broken. A wounded wife does not always scream... many times it turns off in silence.
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Somewhere, there will always be someone who remembers you as the most beautiful love they had, as the most magical person who crossed their path and left an indelible mark on their heart. Fate, with its whimsical twists and its sometimes cruel sense of humor, plays those pranks that leave us wondering why we aren't together, why our paths parted when they seemed destined to be together.
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I like to know you in my life... I like to have you present in my days... Even though you're far I feel close to you. I like to smile when I'm in contact with you.. I like what every message from you provokes me.
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Something that defines a strong woman... is she can go through hell and back, and you would never know unless she tells you. He will appear with a smile, conduct with grace, laugh as if he hadn't fallen asleep crying, and handle his business as if he wasn't fighting a war in silence. He has mastered the art of survival. You don't fall apart in front of just anyone. She doesn't carry her pain around; she carries it on her chest, in silence, because she has learned that not everyone deserves access to her scars.
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You don't miss her. You miss the story you told yourself about how your life would have felt if that connection unfolded. We often form our strongest bonds not to what "is", but to what "could have been".
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