For so long I only cried tears of sadness, that it feels magical to shed tears of joy.
I want a relationship where they don’t just scratch my back, but massage and draw on it softly giving me tingles as I fall asleep.
Closing the chapter with someone doesn’t make you cruel; it simply means they aren’t a part of the next one.
“can we go back to normal?”
considering my normal has been fainting in the shower, not being able to breathe, a heart rate of 190, social avoidance, and feelings of hopelessness,
no. no, we can not go ‘back to normal’.
i was a lover, you were a lesson.
“I wish I could tell you I miss you, but you aren’t that person anymore.”
- abby
she was the kind of girl who quietly looked at the people around her and missed them in this moment before it even ended.
“without your looming shadow, i can finally shine.”
- abby
“i gave the clothes off my back, just for you to stab me.”
- abby
“i remember you often so that the colors won’t fade.”
Instead of openly sharing their emotions with others, they keep their feelings locked inside, letting their inner thoughts do all the talking. You get a glimpse into their mind, where a storm of conflicts, doubts, and desires brews quietly beneath a calm exterior. This internal monologue allows readers to understand what’s going on inside their head, even if they don’t show it on the outside. It’s like seeing the world through their eyes, where every little thing stirs up a wave of emotions that they never express out loud.
For these characters, actions speak louder than words, but even their actions are restrained. They communicate their emotions through the smallest of gestures—a slight tightening of the jaw when they’re angry or hurt, a brief flicker in their eyes when they’re surprised, or a controlled change in posture when something makes them uncomfortable. These tiny, almost imperceptible movements can say so much more than an outburst ever could, hinting at feelings they would never openly share. It’s about what they don’t do as much as what they do.
When they do speak, every word is carefully chosen. Emotionally reserved characters don’t ramble or spill their feelings in a flood of words. Instead, they speak in a measured and controlled manner, always keeping their emotions in check. Their sentences are concise, sometimes even vague or indirect, leaving others guessing about what they’re really thinking. It’s not that they don’t feel deeply, they just prefer to keep those feelings close to the chest, hidden behind a mask of calm and composure.
For these characters, what they do is often more telling than what they say. They might not say “I care about you” outright, but you’ll see it in the way they go out of their way to help, the quiet ways they show up for the people they love. Their actions reveal their emotions—whether it’s a protective gesture, a silent sacrifice, or a kind deed done without expectation of recognition. It’s these unspoken acts of kindness that show their true feelings, even if they never say them out loud.
They often have strong personal boundaries. They keep their private lives just that - private. They don’t open up easily and are cautious about who they let into their inner circle. They might deflect conversations away from themselves or avoid sharing personal details altogether. It’s not that they don’t want to connect, it’s just that they find it hard to lower their walls and let others in, fearing vulnerability or judgment.
When they do show vulnerability, it’s in small, controlled doses. These characters may have moments where they let their guard down, but only in private or with someone they deeply trust.
Sometimes, emotionally reserved characters express their feelings through objects that hold special significance to them. Maybe it’s a worn-out book they keep close, a piece of jewelry they never take off, or an old letter tucked away in a drawer. These symbolic objects are like anchors, holding memories and emotions they can’t express in words. They serve as tangible reminders of their inner world, representing feelings they keep buried deep inside.
When these characters communicate, there’s often more to their words than meets the eye. They speak in subtext, using irony, implication, or ambiguity to convey what they really mean without saying it outright. Their conversations are filled with hidden meanings and unspoken truths, creating layers of depth in their interactions with others. You have to read between the lines to understand what they’re really saying because what they leave unsaid is just as important as what they do say.
Despite their calm demeanor, there are certain things that can break through their emotional reserve. Specific triggers - like a painful memory, a deep-seated fear, or a personal loss - can elicit a strong emotional response, revealing the depth of their feelings. These moments of intensity are rare but powerful, showing that even the most reserved characters have a breaking point.
Over time, emotionally reserved characters can evolve, gradually revealing more about themselves as they grow and change. Maybe they start to trust more, opening up to those around them, or perhaps they experience something that challenges their emotional barriers, forcing them to confront their feelings head-on.
Some days are so beautiful and melancholy that you feel your heart bleeding out as the light inevitably fades from them, stopping as night falls and waiting to be reawakened by the arrival of another day some incalculable amount of time away in the unknowable future that will bring back this nameless feeling that is now crystallized in your memories.
My aesthetic is crying in beautiful places.
I could feel myself choking, on his internalized self loathing and the humidity.
This damn window is always such a bitch to open, but finally- I cracked it open and the rush of air was tickling the hairs on my body, and quenching my lungs.
The floor feels so cool on my skin, my always buzzing with warmth, skin. The shadows and colors on the ceiling look like so inviting and forgiving. They whisper to me, “you love you, that’s enough,” but I don’t believe them. As I gaze out the window I can see the sky, it’s perfectly clear. It looks painted actually.
Buzz, buzz.
What does he want now? To suffocate me further? Leave me alone! Go lie to the world somewhere else. Yo sé quién soy. Soy hermosa como soy. I hate him. I hate how this makes me feel.
I miss you.
Yea, I miss me too. I miss how free I was. How I had no fear, but now I fear losing your love. Losing. I fear losing, but I can’t and I won’t. I can’t lose out on love. Real, free, trusted love.
15 minutes.
That’s all the time I have to pull myself off this floor and feel like a whole person again. To feel my soul light up and be the roaring fire it truly is when it isn’t being snuffed out and stifled by bigotry and insecurity. Ahh! I’m tired of crying hot tears of desperation.
A kiss. A hand on my knee. A lie.
All this to make me feel special behind closed doors. Doors so heavy and thick that they can barely be opened. Doors that if we ran through them hand in hand we could be free.
It’s hot out. 9PM. 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Where is that damn breeze. I’m choking again, this time on the smoke from his day old blunt. Damn, anything else you want to suppress? It doesn’t really matter does it? Of course it does but he’ll never get it. Only one of us choking. You can’t know the feeling unless you’ve choked before.
(8.5.18)
I seem to have fallen for grey skies as I see myself running past gushing winds ,laying flat on the grass humming quotes from my favorite books,those I seem to have etched onto my skin , into unknown, poetic , compositions of music, misery and love. And oh my! running through storms , hysterically laughing , barefoot , with my hands in the air , trying to capture this feeling for I wish it to last forever.
Lost
I lost the hunger but still have the love.
Split between the two.
Who I was and who I am.
Trying to find a common, that area filled with caution.
Is that trauma or am I just hiding ?
Hiding from the fact I can’t reach certain heights.
Is this lack of preparation or perspective ?
Im destined but my story is still being written.
I can choose any path but I don’t have no sense of direction.
I am lost.

Trap Door
A cold breeze covering my chest, Sending chills down my spine.
Watching what we had fading like time easing.
Thought we were ever lasting but you’re forever changing.
Going from everything I want to nothing I need.
Should of listened to my friends, they saw it coming like a prophet.
Telling me to put my feelings in pocket.
Stay solid.
Watch who you fall for, but I can’t help who I fall for.
It’s like a trap door.
Stuck between these floors.
Can’t escape these flaws.
It’s like I’m coming home from war.
Post dramatic stress.
I don’t get a lot of rest cause when I see the sun set, I see you.
Sensation
I miss your sensation but it’s gone like plantation for the slaving.
I’m caving off this Hennessy.
Dreaming of your canopy.
Losing my sanity cause I want you here with me after what you did to me.
Feeling so stupidly cause I’m fluent in this misery.
Asking why pain so glittery.
It tempted me now I can’t be free.
You got the to deed to me.
I can’t escape the need to fight it like creed.
I hardly get any sleep.
Thinking of you when you out in the streets.
I was all for you but wasn’t for me.
I have daily floor time. I only cry when I choose to, and I only shake when the POTS refuses to release its grip on me.
obsessed with the girl who says that if you lie on the floor long enough you will start to cry and shake because your body is 'releasing excess cortisol' like i just think you might be going through something girl
La razón de porque esas personas odian a la gente, no es porque quieren estar solos porque si, sino que ellos tuvieron un pasado oscuro que lo atormentan cada día, y que la gente lo haya lastimado destruyendo su alma en pedazos. Y se alejan de la gente para no ser lastimados de nuevo y solamente quieren hacer lo que los hace sentir mejor que cualquier cosa…
Catherine Gildiner, Good Morning, Monster: Five Heroic Journeys to Emotional Recovery
Don't be sad when I go .. don't pretend you didn't know, Berry that pain deep inside just like me it had to go
“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”
— Unknown
Unmmmmm for you maybe , pfffft I'm a broken ass gay bitch .. I need an want what I want k 😩 shhhhhh 🖤
“You don’t need people who don’t need you.”
— Unknown
Part V
a vacant look
slack facial expressions
shaky hands
trembling lips
swallowing
struggling to breathe
tears rolling down their cheeks
smiling with their mouth and their eyes
softening their features
cannot keep their eyes off of the object of their fondness
sometimes pouting the lips a bit
reaching out, wanting to touch them
narrowing their eyes
rolling their eyes
raising their eyebrows
grinding their teeth
tightening jaw
chin poking out
pouting their lips
forced smiling
crossing arms
shifting their gaze
clenching their fists
tensing their muscles
then becoming restless/fidgeting
swallowing hard
stiffening
holding their breath
blinking rapidly
exhaling sharply
scrubbing a hand over the face
sighing heavily
downturned mouth
slightly bending over
shoulders hanging low
hands falling to the sides
a pained expression
heavy eyes
staring down at their feet
More: How to write emotions Masterpost
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I am surrounded in a crowd of people I claim to know, yet I feel so alone
I smile, and nod, and like I care, when really it's been sometime since I really dared
I speak but I don't feel heard
My words come out, but no one listens, deciding to speak to others, even though I've already began
Do I really know these people? Do they really know me?
I feel more at peace away from them, reading and listening to the songs I've come to love
They make me feel corned, trapped when confronted
Yes, we are friends
I will listen
I will hold you
But why is it that you yourself cannot provide me with the simplest thing
Your attention
Sometimes, it's really hard for me to express myself into words. Maybe, that's because I need to know myself more and more. But it is becoming easier with you now. You might be thinking there are so many things inside my head and I bring out only a bit of it. I don't know if I have the strength to hold onto myself but, I know one thing, I am able to hold onto you as tightly as possible because I don't want to let you go. You can call me selfish and yes I am, because it's you. When I do anything wrong to you, I really feel that guilt, that ache of not being able to apologize whereas my heart actually wants to, very badly. It isn’t right ! But I always believe in showing my flaws to you because I know it's only you who will value them wholeheartedly. I do several bad things out of anger, take wrong decisions but I realize it too with utter grievances towards myself. I start hating myself for not being able to apologize to you for every mistake. I am afraid I will lose you. At times, I don't want you to be anybody else's company except mine knowing that is selfish enough. I am sorry. You have that freedom. When I feel dull and sad not talking to you, I want you to feel the same too. I hope you understand. I don't force you to do anything because it will become a habit. I will constantly force you to do things and in the process I may lose the grip. But I want to have all the rights on you.
That night when you said I must show my right on you, I was so happy, indeed happy to see you are holding me with your all. I want to take care of you. I am a messy person but I would still keep you organized, learn and cook your favorite dish with all my love. I want to stay awake lying beside you when you are sick and caressing you to sleep would be my utmost priority. I take bad decisions to keep us aloof, to keep us safe and not to hurt us. Forgive me for that. I want to dress up according to your choices of attire, to read your kind of books and embrace the new changes in me, to sing your favorite songs, to travel to your favorite places. I want to talk to you about the silly white lies being told to make things work good. These things would make me happier. I guess this is an in-built part of me which I could never express.
Why am not ecstatic? I’ve done everything that’s supposed to make me happy. Such convoluted character development.