WhompWave

There are over 8 billion people in this world.

And somehow, against every odd, I found my person.

I’m not saying we’re perfect. I’m not saying she’s flawless. I’m not saying every day is easy, that we never disagree, or that life suddenly became some beautiful fairytale the moment we found each other.

I’m saying something so much more meaningful than that.

I found my person.

The person who stands beside me when the world feels like it’s falling apart. The person who holds my hand when the road ahead looks painful, uncertain, or downright terrifying. The person who sees me at my absolute worst and still finds something in me worth loving.

I found someone who celebrates my victories like they’re her own, who believes in me when I’ve forgotten how to believe in myself, and who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m wrong. Someone who can be my biggest supporter and my harshest critic, not because she wants to change who I am, but because she loves me enough to want to see me become everything I can be.

And the beautiful thing is, I don’t have to pretend with her.

I don’t have to be strong every second. I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to hide the broken pieces of myself out of fear that someone might decide they’re too much to love.

She knows they’re there. And she stays.

I know there will be hard days. There will be tears, disagreements, heartbreak, and moments when life tests everything we think we know. But love isn’t finding someone who promises you’ll never hurt.

It’s finding someone who promises you won’t have to face that hurt alone.

And somehow, in a world filled with billions of strangers, I found the one person whose hand I want to hold through all of it.

Not because she’s perfect.

Not because we’re perfect.

But because when I think about tomorrow, about growing older, about all the beautiful and terrible things this life still has waiting for me, there’s nobody else I’d rather have beside me.

I don’t need a perfect love story.

I just want ours.

Eight billion people.

And I found her.

How fucking lucky am I?

I found my person. ❤️

@Synnerette

I got my wife back!

Me trying to work when @Synnerette is yelling at video games in the background after streaming 20hr strait.....

There is a lot going on in my life right now. More than I can really put into words, and some days, just finding the strength to take another step feels like a battle.

But through all the darkness, these last few days have reminded me of something incredibly beautiful. I am not alone.

The amount of love, kindness, and support I've received has been nothing short of a blessing. So many people have reached out with sympathy, encouragement, and compassion that I couldn't possibly fit everyone into this picture. But please know that every message, every kind word, and every gesture has meant more to me than I could ever explain.

I may be hurting. I may be tired. And I may not always know what tomorrow holds. But I'm still here. And I'll keep walking. Some days, that might mean taking only one small step forward. Other days, it might mean leaning on the people who refuse to let me fall.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you. For standing beside me, for helping carry the weight, and for reminding me that even in the darkest moments, there is still light. 💙

If i didnt tag you im sorry...
@Synnerette @Spydrbro @MooBerryGaming @tylenish @Recycled_Plasti @RubyZeph @TheWeepingHero2

I’ve walked through too many graveyards,
said goodbye to too many names,
and watched the world keep turning
Even when mine is standing still.

They say that time heals everything,
but I think that’s just a lie we tell the broken….
Because some wounds don’t close.
Some goodbyes never stop echoing.
And some names still bring you to your knees,
no matter how many years have passed.

With every grave I pass,
another piece of me falls away.

A feather for a friend.
A fragment for a brother.
A piece of my heart for my father.
And countless shattered pieces
for the ones I never thought I’d have to live without.

I leave them there,
scattered among the stones,
little pieces of who I used to be,
buried beside the people who made me whole.

And the cruelest part?

The world never stops to notice what’s missing.

The sun still rises.
People still laugh.
Life carries on like nothing happened.

And I’m expected to carry on with it.

So I walk.
A little quieter.
A little colder.
A little less myself.

My wings grow heavier,
even as their feathers disappear.
My heart keeps beating,
though sometimes it feels like there’s nothing left inside it.

I wonder how many more goodbyes
a soul can survive
before there’s nothing left to take.

Because grief doesn’t always look like crying.
Sometimes it looks like silence.
Like staring at an empty chair.
Like reaching for a phone
to call someone who will never answer.

Sometimes it looks like a man
walking through a graveyard,
leaving pieces of himself
at every stone.

And still somehow finding the strength
to take another step.

Not because he’s healed.
Not because he’s strong.

But because the dead have found their rest, and the living are left to carry the weight of loving them.

And God…

I’m so tired of carrying it.