Dating

The Last Song
The café was nearly empty by the time Daniel noticed her. He’d been nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee, pretending to read a paperback while the soft hum of an old record player filled the space. The rain outside turned the city streets into shimmering ribbons of light.
By Ameliaabout a year ago in Confessions
If i could choose the dream. AI-Generated.
🌙 If I Could Choose the Dream By Haroon The first thing I feel is warmth—not the kind that comes from sunshine but something softer, like being swaddled in a memory. I’m standing in a field of silvergrass. The wind moves through the blades like whispers. The sky overhead is hazy lavender. Dreamlight. That’s what I’ve decided to call this place: dreamlight.
By Muhammad Haroonabout a year ago in Confessions
The Secret Hidden From The World
The island was shrouded in mist, its secrets hidden from the world. But when Emma stumbled upon an old map, she knew she had to explore its shores. As she wandered through the island's lush forests, she discovered lost treasures from throughout history: a Viking's sword, a Victorian-era parasol, a pair of Converse sneakers. Each object told a story, and Emma felt like she was unraveling the threads of time.
By Tariq Pathan about a year ago in Confessions
Confessions of a Former Alcoholic Part 4
People need to be guided towards healthy habits regularly rather than using addictive products again. I'm almost at that point now. My life was great when I didn't drink alcohol 3 years ago, and now I attribute it to stress. It's not the stress from my job, but the toxic behavior and overreactions of my elders.
By TheNaethabout a year ago in Confessions
Chapter 32: I Am No Prude. Content Warning.
By the time I got the big railroad apartment in Bed-Stuy I had stopped turning tricks. I had a solid rapport with a couple of regular dealers and was making enough money to cover my $2K a week drug tab – usually. And when I couldn’t I got my coke on consignment, until I had an ever-running tab that my paycheck only put a dent in and which put me eternally behind the ball.
By DB Maddoxabout a year ago in Confessions
Chapter 27: Rite of Passage. Content Warning.
I was using the delivery service I knew from my Greenpoint days and was getting coke any time I could scrape together at least 17 or 18 dollars, which was the minimum, I discovered, that these guys would accept for a 20 bag. But I was exhausted from having to earn that 17 dollars, and all the networking and phone calls and texts and follow-ups.
By DB Maddoxabout a year ago in Confessions
Bestfriend
Hey Girl, it's me your Best Friend I know we don't talk much but I need to say a few things so sit down shut up and just Listen. The night we met you were scared out of your mind do to your current Boyfriend at that time being in one of his moods yet you saw something in me that made you feel safe a complete stranger. Funny looking back it makes me smile; you had a black eye from where you told me you ran into something but I knew you were lying, I offered a safe haven at my stepmoms place, I blew off my probation meeting risking jail time to make sure you were safe.
By Dragon Matthew Wood - Hillmanabout a year ago in Confessions
Top 10 Legit New Zealand Dating Sites and Apps for 2025
In New Zealand, where rugged landscapes meet laid-back Kiwi charm, dating in 2025 is an adventure of heart and connection. From Auckland’s vibrant cafes to the serene shores of Dunedin, Kiwis are embracing online platforms to find love, friendship, or casual flickers that reflect their adventurous yet grounded spirit. Amid a digital world cluttered with fleeting swipes and fake profiles, New Zealand Dating shines as a fast-growing, trusted platform, offering verified profiles, robust safety features, and a Kiwi-focused approach to flicker genuine connections. With a 4.8-star rating and a surge in users across Wellington and Christchurch, it’s a go-to for locals and expats alike. This 5,000-word guide dives into the top 10 legit New Zealand dating sites and apps for 2025, explores Kiwi dating culture, and shares tips to navigate the journey to love with confidence and authenticity.
By Olivia Smithabout a year ago in Confessions
"I Lied, I Loved, I Let Go: A Confession Years in the Making"
Introduction: The Weight of an Unspoken Truth Some truths are not easy to tell. They sit in the heart like stones, heavy and unmoving. We carry them for years, hoping time will lighten the load. But it doesn’t. Instead, they grow heavier with silence. This is a story about one of those truths — a confession I’ve carried for too long. It is about a lie that changed everything, a love that felt real and raw, and the painful yet necessary act of letting go. Writing this is not about seeking forgiveness. It’s about finally finding freedom.
By Idea hiveabout a year ago in Confessions
My Maid of Honor Slept with My Fiancé
Weddings are supposed to be the happiest day of your life. I spent two years preparing for mine—carefully planning every detail. The flowers. The playlist. The dress. And most importantly, who would stand beside me: my best friend since fifth grade, Amanda, as my maid of honor.
By Kevinabout a year ago in Confessions
God's Lessons
Sometimes what you think you want and what you need are two different things. Saying goodbye is never easy. Moving on is never simple. To let someone into the deepest parts of your soul only to eventually let them go is the hardest thing you’ll ever have to repeatedly do. It’s never the same. It never gets easier. It hurts. Even when you think that the ties are severed, only when all is lost do you realize how much you still have left to let go. The pain can be unbearable but the tears will dry and the agony will subside.
By Tiffiney Cornishabout a year ago in Confessions
“When Silence Echoes Between Us”
It’s strange how, after all this time, my mind still drifts back to you. Not daily. Not intensely. But enough to make me stop and wonder: Why now? Why still? By any logic, I shouldn’t be having these feelings. We haven't spoken in well over a year. We parted ways on terms so fractured that it was almost a relief to stop trying. And yet, here I am — remembering. Our last words weren’t exactly kind. If anything, they were laced with exhaustion. Not rage. Just a tired sort of detachment that signaled we had finally run out of fuel. And maybe, that was for the best. Still, some part of me replays those days. Quietly. Without meaning to. I know I’m better off. That much is clear. What we had — if it can even be called that — wasn’t healthy. Our connection was riddled with chaos, unspoken power games, and a constant undercurrent of discomfort. There was always this sense that I was walking on a ledge. One misstep, and I’d fall into an argument, a cold shoulder, or worse — silence. You always had more power. More influence. More say. Even when I spoke up, it felt like speaking into a tunnel where my words returned to me distorted and hollow. I gave too much. You took too easily. And no, you didn’t abuse me. But you didn’t respect boundaries either. Trust was a weapon in your hands. You never held it with care. The very things I confided in you — the vulnerable, trembling pieces of my inner world — were thrown back at me during disagreements. Used as reminders of my weaknesses. I remember the early days. It took less than a week for warning signs to show. Little things. Thoughtlessness. Inconsistencies. A coolness when I needed warmth. I ignored them — as we so often do when we want something to work. When we believe someone could be good for us. Red flags followed. Slowly. Surely. I started to see how little you actually listened. How you made everything a transaction. I called you out, but I didn’t let go. I should have. But I didn’t. Looking back now, I stayed far past the expiration date. By the time I walked away, it was no longer a decision — it was survival. You had taken up too much space in my mind. You weren’t actively there anymore, but your shadow lingered. The damage had already been done. But here's the part I don’t want to admit: I still think about you. It’s not longing. It’s not even regret. It’s… a weird, quiet ache. A part of me misses how bizarre and unpredictable our bond was. Like something you know you shouldn't touch, but you do anyway — just to feel something. There were moments, rare and fleeting, where our conversations felt electric. Where I could pretend, even briefly, that we had something special. That’s the part that haunts me. Sometimes, I wonder if we’ll ever run into each other again. Not dramatically. Not fate-driven. Just… maybe, someday. At a coffee shop. Or in some corner of the internet. Will we say anything? Will we look away? Will there be silence or a nod? I’ve checked your profiles. Not often. Just sometimes. I’ve seen traces of myself — my words, my creations — echoed there. Not always kindly. Sometimes, mockingly. But you didn’t forget me. That much is clear. I doubt you think about me as much as I think about you. You have your own world now. New pursuits. New responsibilities. A life far removed from our old connection. And that’s good. You needed it. I needed it too. But if we ever cross paths again, I won’t be the same. I won’t shrink myself for your comfort. I won’t try to please. I won’t hand over trust without reason. I’ve learned — painfully, deeply — how to hold myself with more care. I’m not waiting. I’m not hoping. But I’m not denying either. The past doesn’t disappear. It lingers. It echoes. This isn’t a plea. It’s not an open door. It’s just an acknowledgment. Of something that once was. Of someone I once knew. Of a version of me that existed in your presence — and had to leave to survive.
By Saeed Ullah about a year ago in Confessions