episode 1

Do you think I ever wanted this life?

No.

This isn’t the life I dreamed of. It’s not the life I ever asked for.

Because for me, life doesn’t play out like those comforting stories. You know, the ones where the heroine is broken, but then the hero comes into her world and slowly puts her back together.

That doesn’t happen in my life.

Every time I dare to trust someone, they either cheat on me or vanish without a single word.

No closure. No explanation. Just… silence.

And somehow, my brother always gets dragged into it. Like some twisted cycle I can’t escape from — where healing becomes impossible because everything turns into drama.

I try. I really do. I give people chances. I forgive.

But all they ever leave behind is a heavier silence than before.

There’s no one who really gets me. No one who sees me behind the fake smile, behind the “I’m okay.”

I’ve always been the one who listens. The one who nods when someone cries. The one who says, “I understand,” even when I’m falling apart inside.

But has anyone ever asked me, “How are you, really?”

No.

No one ever stays long enough to listen.

And over time, I’ve learned a cruel truth:

The people you want… don’t want you back the same way.

So I wear a mask. I put on a smile.

I laugh like I’m fine.

I chill like nothing’s wrong.

But inside?

Inside, I’m just a girl — aching for one person. Just one.

One person who would choose me.

Not because I’m useful. Not because I’m quiet.

But because they see me — all of me — and still choose to stay.

But I’m still waiting.

And no prince ever comes. Not for me. Not like they do in other girls’ stories.

I don’t know how they find that kind of love…

I want it too.

Desperately.

People tell me, “You have a family, go talk to them.”

But what’s the point?

They think I’m being dramatic. They say I’m acting.

They don’t understand that this isn’t drama.

This is me breaking — softly, silently.

Do you know my parents didn’t even want me?

They Wanted a boy.

My mother took medicine for it. The kind many Indian women take when they pray for a son.

But instead… I was born.

And sometimes, I hate that.

I hate being born as me.

I hate being born into this country, this culture, this box of expectations.

If I had a choice, I would’ve been a tree —

Silent, still, unnoticed.

No feelings. No pain. Just peace.

But I wasn’t given that choice.

I was born as a girl. In a world that never wanted her.

And now I’m tired.

Tired of pretending.

Tired of surviving.

Let’s See What Happens Next

Let’s see what happens next in my life,

Will it be peace, or just more strife?

Will someone hear the silence I keep,

Or will I cry myself to sleep?

I smile all day, I laugh on cue,

But deep down, I’m fading too.

They see a girl who’s calm, at rest,

But no one knows I’m not my best.

I wait for love that doesn’t stay,

For words that others throw away.

I carry pain behind my eyes,

And wear my wounds in quiet disguise.

Maybe tomorrow will bring me light,

Maybe I’ll stop this endless fight.

Or maybe I’ll just breathe and try,

Still broken, but learning not to cry.

So here I am, not strong, just tired,

With a heart that’s bruised but still inspired.

Let’s see what life will choose to send…

A new beginning, or just pretend.

my second episode on my first relationship. so don’t forgot to read that.

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