Let Your Love Be Stronger Than Your Hate Or Anger. Learn The Wisdom Of Compromise, For It Is Better To

If depression has a color it wouldn't black. It would be dull muted gray.

Black makes a statement.

It's solid, not allowing any light in. It's bold. It's loud. It's in your face. It's like the infinite night sky. It's lovely sin in lace.

Muted gray isn't any of those things. It's dull. It's numb.

It's soft background white noise. It's pale and not blatantly seen.

It blends into the scenery without other people even noticing.

It still lets some light in. It's nothing. It says nothing. It's just there-existing. Lifeless and drained of all life, spirit, color, and the essence of who you are. You lose your identity. You lose your personality.

In depression, you lose everything that makes you-you.

You're muted gray. And that's okay. In time, you'll heal little by little, getting yourself out of the monotone darkness you know so well. You made a bed there. You're comfortable there. Safe. But don't stay there. Even though it feels like home. It's not. It's a big grey-black veil over your real self. Your soul. Once you start healing, you lift the veil up little by little....letting light in.

As months and years go by, you've healed in many little steps that add up to a huge change in you. You're still in depression, but nowhere near as deep as you were. You remember how you were back then, and you see how much you healed for the better.

You see you're not staring at walls or patterns on drapes, or blankly staring at the floor. You're not closed off, you're not as quiet, you're smiling more, laughing more, engaging more, doing more activities you used to love and enjoy, being more sociable, and overall just being the real YOU.

You see more of your old personality shining through. THAT'S when you see the difference in you. You're not 100% healed by any means. But you've made strides. More and more...seeing your old self there in the distance in the field.

Go get her. She needs you back.

Always say "my peace is more important" when you find yourself reacting to something that doesn't deserve your energy.

#Abdullah

He dipped his fingers into my mouth

and called me his.

I brought the animal out in him.

The side he showed no one else.

And I became something feral, taunting, and submissive. The very thing he needed and craved.

I felt wanted and adored.

He felt needed, cathartic, and in control.

And when we collided, storms erupted violently.

Best exchange rate!

A story doesn't exist unless it's Told.

Am I a romantic? Oh yes, I'm a very romantic soul. Do I love the love notes, the personal written poems out of the blue, my favorite flowers just because, date nights, holding my hand, touching the dimple on my lower back, running your fingers through my dark brown hair, saying sweet things in my ear making me feel beautiful and wanted and all those special things? Definitely. Yes, I love the mushy side of romance. I'm that kinda girl. But that's only one side of romance for me. Romance isn't all lovey dovey in my eyes.

It means so much more to me. Romance can be dark and moody, captivating like your favorite crime novel, burning and feverish with desires, powerful feelings exchanges and glances, intense passion never known before that you can't get enough of, longing for each other, sensuality just oozing out of their bones, a ball of chaos that is so sexually divine that your whole world becomes a sky of lightening strikes with one touch, one kiss, one lick of his tongue.

One motion of his hand around my neck, one swift motion holding my hands up above my head as he kisses me.

One phrase whispered in my ear sending chills up my spine 'what do you say?', he said. One look motioning for me to get into position. One growl next to my face as his mouth is tangled in my hair. Did I want the flowery, suagry, mushy side of romance? Of course I did.

But I also wanted the type of romance only he can give me. And he knows exactly which romance switch to turn on when I'm with him. He just knows. And I think that's the art of being with a girl like me.

Knowing me so well that he knows my moods, my gaze, my word cues, my needs, and wants to the point of naturally knowing which side of romance is knocking at the door that night.

“Sometimes you have to forget what you feel, and remember what you deserve.”

𝗪𝗲 𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗨𝘀 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸, 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀.

𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗨𝘀 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱, 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝘀.

#𝗔𝗯𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗵

Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.

Abdullah