@sh_ams22.0: باسم ✨#بغداد #باسم_الكربلائي #باسم #هواجيس

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Saturday 24 January 2026 20:23:57 GMT

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الأكبر علي🦋✨ :

متلازمه باسم 🥺❤️‍🩹

2026-01-27 09:56:11

3

عذراء :

تذكرت هجام

2026-02-11 10:33:19

11

تــرفـــه･★‧₊˚ :

غميج... 💔!!!!!

2026-01-25 15:43:36

4

fhgdjfd :

2026-02-08 17:40:35

1

Shams Raed :

اللللللللله

2026-01-29 20:09:17

1

علي :

2026-02-14 17:44:40

3

روح حسينيه :

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

2026-02-12 23:18:26

1

سآنْدِرآ :

والله صفنت صفنه من شفت صورة الحساب 😂😂😂

2026-03-06 00:52:36

12

🌿 :

2026-01-29 12:38:13

2

نبض🥀. :

😭😭😭دمار هاي القصيده

2026-01-31 19:15:29

4

منك تعبت :

جرح بالروح

2026-01-26 17:40:34

4

Z :

غميجج😓😓

2026-03-10 01:23:50

2

🎀🙂‍↔️마람 :

عندي مرض كلما اكعد بمكان وحدي اضل اهوجس 💔💔💔💔💔💔🥺

2026-02-26 10:49:40

4

. :

💔💔اي والله لو ربي ماخذ كلشي بحياتي ولا ماخذ أبوي

2026-01-28 20:26:24

9

𝐑 :

أتمنى يتحقق حلمي و يصعد حسابي 💔

2026-03-02 03:39:47

2

ސاމ :

يا باسم 💔😞🧠

2026-02-12 10:19:42

0

Queen✨🪐 :

اموت عليها هاي القصيدة تاخذني لغير عالم

2026-05-23 13:19:05

1

𝑺𝒂𝒅 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🤷🏻‍♀️💔 :

جَـࢪِح شَـوڪَـي💔💔💔👇🏻

2026-03-10 21:17:00

0

حسين نجم :

💔

2026-06-09 08:52:49

0

هاكان :

سلامتج

2026-05-06 23:17:01

0

UM Lain :

ح

2026-07-28 20:10:18

0

فاطميه :

😭😭😭😭😭

2026-02-16 19:00:59

0

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“The door is closed, but the window’s open.” Dear You, I don’t think you’ll ever read this. Maybe that’s why I’m finally brave enough to write it. People always say that when one door closes, another one opens. But no one ever talks about what happens when you’re still standing in front of the same closed door, even after you’ve accepted that no one is coming to open it. That’s what loving you feels like. A door I’ll never walk through. I used to believe that if I stayed long enough, if I loved quietly enough, if I understood you more than anyone else did, maybe one day you’d look at me and realize I had been here all along. But hearts don’t reward patience. They don’t fall in love because someone waited. And yours never found its way to me. The funny thing is… you never promised me anything. You never said you would love me back. You never asked me to wait. Every wound I carry was made by my own hope. I built a home inside a future that only existed in my imagination, and every day I lived there as if it were real. I pictured conversations we’d never have, memories we’d never make, a version of us that was never born outside my heart. I mourn someone who never existed. Maybe that’s the saddest part. The world keeps moving as if nothing happened, while I’m grieving a love story that only one person ever lived. Sometimes I wonder if you ever noticed the way I looked at you. The way my eyes always found yours in crowded rooms. The way I remembered the smallest things you forgot about yourself. The way hearing your name could ruin or save my entire day. Maybe you noticed. Maybe you didn’t. I don’t know which answer hurts more. The door is closed. I know that now. I know there isn’t a hidden key waiting for me. I know there won’t be a day when you’ll suddenly realize I’ve been the one all along. Real life isn’t written that way. But the window… The window is cruel. It stays open just enough for me to see the life I’ll never have. Just enough to imagine what your hand would’ve felt like holding mine. Just enough to picture the mornings that will belong to someone else. The laughter I’ll never hear because of me. The love you’ll give… Just not to me. I wish I could hate you. It would be easier. But how do you hate someone for being honest with their heart? You didn’t choose to love me any more than I chose to love you. So instead, I hate the silence after every conversation ends. I hate how every song somehow finds its way back to you. I hate that even now, after everything, my first instinct is still to tell you about the little things that happen in my day. And then I remember… I don’t have that place in your life. Maybe I never did. I’ve spent so much time trying to become someone you’d choose that somewhere along the way, I forgot to choose myself. That’s the part no one tells you about unrequited love. It doesn’t just break your heart. It slowly convinces you that maybe your heart was never worth choosing. I’m trying to unlearn that. Some nights, I almost succeed. Other nights, I still whisper your name into rooms you’ll never enter. Maybe healing isn’t forgetting. Maybe it’s finally accepting that I can love you with every part of me… …and still never belong to you. So I’ll stop knocking. Not because I stopped loving you. But because my hands are tired. And maybe… one day… I’ll stop looking through the window too. Until then, I’ll keep loving you from a distance you never asked for, carrying a goodbye I never got to say, and mourning a love that never had the chance to exist. You’ll probably never know that someone loved you this deeply. And maybe that’s exactly how this story was always meant to end. — Someone who loved you quietly. #foryou #4u #xybca

“The door is closed, but the window’s open.” Dear You, I don’t think you’ll ever read this. Maybe that’s why I’m finally brave enough to write it. People always say that when one door closes, another one opens. But no one ever talks about what happens when you’re still standing in front of the same closed door, even after you’ve accepted that no one is coming to open it. That’s what loving you feels like. A door I’ll never walk through. I used to believe that if I stayed long enough, if I loved quietly enough, if I understood you more than anyone else did, maybe one day you’d look at me and realize I had been here all along. But hearts don’t reward patience. They don’t fall in love because someone waited. And yours never found its way to me. The funny thing is… you never promised me anything. You never said you would love me back. You never asked me to wait. Every wound I carry was made by my own hope. I built a home inside a future that only existed in my imagination, and every day I lived there as if it were real. I pictured conversations we’d never have, memories we’d never make, a version of us that was never born outside my heart. I mourn someone who never existed. Maybe that’s the saddest part. The world keeps moving as if nothing happened, while I’m grieving a love story that only one person ever lived. Sometimes I wonder if you ever noticed the way I looked at you. The way my eyes always found yours in crowded rooms. The way I remembered the smallest things you forgot about yourself. The way hearing your name could ruin or save my entire day. Maybe you noticed. Maybe you didn’t. I don’t know which answer hurts more. The door is closed. I know that now. I know there isn’t a hidden key waiting for me. I know there won’t be a day when you’ll suddenly realize I’ve been the one all along. Real life isn’t written that way. But the window… The window is cruel. It stays open just enough for me to see the life I’ll never have. Just enough to imagine what your hand would’ve felt like holding mine. Just enough to picture the mornings that will belong to someone else. The laughter I’ll never hear because of me. The love you’ll give… Just not to me. I wish I could hate you. It would be easier. But how do you hate someone for being honest with their heart? You didn’t choose to love me any more than I chose to love you. So instead, I hate the silence after every conversation ends. I hate how every song somehow finds its way back to you. I hate that even now, after everything, my first instinct is still to tell you about the little things that happen in my day. And then I remember… I don’t have that place in your life. Maybe I never did. I’ve spent so much time trying to become someone you’d choose that somewhere along the way, I forgot to choose myself. That’s the part no one tells you about unrequited love. It doesn’t just break your heart. It slowly convinces you that maybe your heart was never worth choosing. I’m trying to unlearn that. Some nights, I almost succeed. Other nights, I still whisper your name into rooms you’ll never enter. Maybe healing isn’t forgetting. Maybe it’s finally accepting that I can love you with every part of me… …and still never belong to you. So I’ll stop knocking. Not because I stopped loving you. But because my hands are tired. And maybe… one day… I’ll stop looking through the window too. Until then, I’ll keep loving you from a distance you never asked for, carrying a goodbye I never got to say, and mourning a love that never had the chance to exist. You’ll probably never know that someone loved you this deeply. And maybe that’s exactly how this story was always meant to end. — Someone who loved you quietly. #foryou #4u #xybca

#اكسبلور #fyp #foryou #foryoupage #viral

#اكسبلور #fyp #foryou #foryoupage #viral

Cái màu nó dịu mà nó thơ 🍃🫧 #xomuslin #minibunnie

Cái màu nó dịu mà nó thơ 🍃🫧 #xomuslin #minibunnie

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