They said time heals all wounds, but some days it feels like the pain only grows heavier. They said I’d get over it, move on, and find peace—but what they don’t see is the quiet battle I fight inside, the moments when the memories flood back and the loneliness sinks in deeper than before. They said I’m strong enough to carry it all, but sometimes I just want to put down the weight and let myself break without feeling weak. It’s exhausting pretending I’m okay when all I want is to scream and be heard. They said things would get better, but the cracks inside me still run deep, and the scars they left aren’t visible to anyone else. They said I should be grateful for what I have, but gratitude doesn’t erase the emptiness I feel when I look in the mirror. They said I’m not alone, yet sometimes the silence around me feels deafening. I wish they understood that healing isn’t a straight path—it’s messy, painful, and often lonely. Maybe one day I’ll believe their words, but for now, I’m still trying to hold myself together.