love
All you need is Love, and Love is all you need.
A Month In
It’s crazy it’s been a month already. It doesn’t seem possible how quickly time can fly. It seems like just a moment ago I was watching you walk down the isle gasping at how beautiful you were. Looking into your eyes as we danced for the first time as Mr. & Mrs. Terry. It’s crazy how in life you blink and things have changed. Sometimes for the bad but in this case for the best. This has been the craziest but happiest month of my life. I couldn’t dream or even wish for anything better. This is a dream come true.
By Thomas Terry2 years ago in Humans
15 Free Date Ideas That Are Actually Fun and Exciting
15 Free Date Ideas You’ll Want to Try Whoever said that dates must be expensive hasn't embraced the charm of a good, old-fashioned, zero-cost adventure. Whether you're attempting to keep things low-key or essentially searching for special ways to put through without draining your wallet, free date ideas can offer some of the finest encounters. You do not require a five-star eatery to create memories—sometimes all you would like may be a small imagination and a readiness to investigate.
By Milan Milic2 years ago in Humans
I Love My husband But I Want A Divorce:What Should I Do?
Marriage is an incredible journey, full of love and joy, but it’s not always smooth sailing. It’s completely normal to experience ups and downs in a relationship. However, what happens when the downs start outweighing the ups, and you find yourself thinking, "I love my husband, but I want a divorce"?
By coti limps2 years ago in Humans
Simple Trust: How to Break Down the Walls in a Relationship
Simple trust is the heartbeat of every strong relationship. We can be honest with each other because we are quite confident that they will understand and accept us. Trust in relationships isn’t hard to understand; it just means believing in each other, being loyal, and being open. However, it can be hard to make and keep this link. Some of the things that make us build mental walls come from the past.
By Relationship Guide2 years ago in Humans
First Time Love Failure
The first time I fell in love, I didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. In fact, I didn’t think about failure at all. At that age, love seemed like something pure, unbreakable—an untouchable force that was simply meant to be. Looking back, it’s hard to believe how naïve I was, but at the time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her name was Suba, and she was everything I thought I wanted. I met Suba in my final year of secondary school. We had a few classes together, but it wasn’t until we were paired for a group project that I really noticed her. She was smart, confident, and had this infectious smile that seemed to light up any room she walked into. For someone like me—reserved, a little shy, and not particularly confident—she was everything I wasn’t. And maybe that’s what drew me to her. At first, it was just casual conversations, talking about our project or schoolwork. But as we spent more time together, those conversations turned into jokes, shared interests, and late-night chats over text. I found myself thinking about her more than I wanted to admit. It wasn’t long before I realised that what I felt wasn’t just friendship—it was something deeper. I was nervous about telling her how I felt, but I convinced myself that it was the right thing to do. After all, she seemed to enjoy our time together as much as I did. There were moments when I thought she felt the same way—little glances, a lingering smile, the way her laugh echoed in my head long after the joke was over. It felt like the kind of thing you read about in stories, where everything falls into place perfectly. So, one afternoon after school, I decided to tell her. We were sitting in the library, our books scattered around us, but neither of us was really focused on studying. My heart was pounding, and my hands were clammy, but I knew I had to get the words out before I lost my nerve. “Suba,” I said, barely able to keep my voice steady. “I… I think I like you. More than just as a friend.” She looked up from her book, surprised. For a moment, there was a silence that stretched on far too long, and I could feel my confidence slipping away with every passing second. She didn’t say anything right away, and when she finally did speak, it wasn’t what I had hoped for. “Oh,” she said softly, her smile fading. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” There was an awkward pause, and I could feel the tension building between us. My heart sank, and I suddenly regretted saying anything at all. “I’m really flattered,” she continued, her tone kind but distant, “but I don’t feel the same way. I think you’re a great friend, and I love spending time with you, but that’s all it is for me.” In that moment, everything crashed down around me. I forced a smile and nodded, trying to act like her words didn’t hurt as much as they did. But inside, I felt like my chest had been hollowed out. It wasn’t just the rejection that stung—it was the loss of something I had convinced myself was there, something I had built up in my head as more than it ever was. We finished our study session that day, but things were never the same after that. The easy conversations and laughter we once shared felt forced, like we were both trying too hard to pretend that nothing had changed. Eventually, the distance grew too much, and we stopped hanging out altogether. It wasn’t her fault—she had been honest and kind about the whole thing—but it didn’t make the loss any easier. For weeks after, I replayed the moment in my head, wondering where I had gone wrong. I questioned everything—was it something I said? Something I did? But the truth was, sometimes feelings just don’t align, no matter how much you want them to. That was the hardest part of my first love failure—the realisation that love isn’t always reciprocal, that sometimes, no matter how deeply you feel for someone, they may not feel the same way about you. It wasn’t a grand, dramatic heartbreak like in the movies, but it was a quiet, aching disappointment that lingered long after the rejection. As time passed, I learned to move on, but the experience stayed with me. It was a reminder that love doesn’t always work out the way we hope, and that rejection is a part of life, even when it feels like the world is crashing down around you. The first time I failed in love taught me that vulnerability is both beautiful and terrifying, and that sometimes, despite your best efforts, love isn’t meant to be. Though it hurt at the time, that first failure shaped how I approached love in the future. It taught me patience, the value of mutual respect, and the importance of knowing when to let go. Even though I didn’t end up with Suba, the experience became a stepping stone to understanding what real love should feel like—balanced, respectful, and shared equally between two people.
By Jagadeeswaran Selvaraj2 years ago in Humans
10 Everyday Habits to Radically Improve Your Life"
Exercise into Your RoutineIncorporate Daily Exercise into Your Routine Life transformation is often the result of consistent, small actions rather than dramatic, overnight changes. Building good habits can gradually improve your physical health, mental clarity, and overall happiness. In this fast-paced world, adopting daily routines that nurture your well-being is essential for long-term success and fulfilment. The 10 habits discussed below may seem simple, but when practised consistently, they have the power to radically improve your life, creating a foundation for both personal and professional growth.
By Zinnat ara Begum2 years ago in Humans
What Makes a Man Weak for a Woman? The Powerful Reasons
It’s very strong to say what makes a man weak for a woman. It goes deeper than just being physically attracted to each other. To really fall in love with a woman, a guy needs to feel emotionally connected to her, share her values, and be open to being hurt.
By Relationship Guide2 years ago in Humans
First Time Affection
There’s a certain magic in the first time you feel affection for someone. It’s not the love you’ve read about in novels, not the fiery passion that overtakes your thoughts. No, it’s quieter than that, more like a soft ripple across your heart, unanticipated and gentle. My story of first-time affection began on an ordinary day, with nothing out of the ordinary about it — except for her. I was in my second year of university, attending a lecture I wasn’t particularly interested in. The room was packed, as usual, with students scattered across the lecture hall, half of them glued to their screens, and the other half scribbling down notes. I was somewhere in the middle, doing neither, and waiting for the clock to strike the end of the session. But then, she walked in. There was nothing especially remarkable about her entrance. No fanfare, no spotlight—just a girl slipping quietly into the back row, searching for an empty seat. She wore a simple outfit, jeans and a plain T-shirt, her hair loosely tied back. But something about her caught my attention. Perhaps it was the way she moved, with a kind of serene grace, or maybe it was the peaceful expression on her face, as if the world around her was exactly as it should be. I didn’t think much of it at first. I’d seen countless students come and go over the semesters, all of them strangers to me. But as the lecture dragged on, I found my thoughts drifting back to her. It was an odd sensation, this quiet pull I felt toward someone I hadn’t even spoken to. It wasn’t attraction in the traditional sense—there was no physical spark or sudden desire. It was more like curiosity, a soft wondering that wouldn’t leave me alone. I decided to sit near the back of the lecture hall the next day, closer to where she had sat. I told myself it was merely for a change of scenery, but I knew better. I was hoping she would show up again, and when she did, I found myself inexplicably pleased. Over the next few weeks, we continued this silent dance. She would sit near the back, always in the same general area, and I would position myself a few seats away, never too close, but never too far. The strange thing was, I still hadn’t spoken to her. We never exchanged more than a passing glance, and even that was rare. But there was something calming about her presence, something that drew me to her, day after day. I started to notice little things about her—the way she tapped her pen absentmindedly when she was deep in thought, the way she smiled to herself when she found something amusing in her notes, the way she would glance out the window as if the world beyond was more interesting than the lecture inside. It wasn’t until weeks later that I finally worked up the courage to speak to her. It was after class, and most of the students had already left. She was gathering her things, and I found myself walking toward her without fully realising what I was doing. “Hey,” I said, awkwardly, not quite sure how to start a conversation with someone I had silently admired for so long. She looked up, surprised, but her smile was warm. “Hey.” For a moment, I didn’t know what to say next. What was I supposed to talk about? The lecture? The weather? Instead, I blurted out, “I see you here a lot.” She chuckled, and the sound was light, almost musical. “Yeah, I guess I’m kind of a regular.” There was something easy about talking to her, despite the nervous flutter in my chest. We chatted for a few minutes, mostly about school and the course we were both taking, before she excused herself to head to her next class. As she walked away, I felt an odd sense of relief, but also excitement. I had finally broken the barrier between us, and it felt like the start of something, though I wasn’t sure what. Over the next few weeks, we started talking more frequently. Sometimes it was just small talk before or after class, other times it was longer conversations in the university café. I learned that her name was Emma, that she loved books and rainy days, and that she had a quirky sense of humour that never failed to make me laugh. The more I got to know her, the more I realised that the quiet affection I had felt from the beginning wasn’t just a passing fancy. It had grown into something deeper, something real. It wasn’t love—not yet, at least—but it was the beginning of something wonderful. Looking back, that first time I felt affection for Emma was like a soft breeze that eventually grew into a warm, comforting wind. It wasn’t dramatic or overwhelming, but it was steady, persistent, and undeniably real. It was the kind of affection that crept up on you when you least expected it, leaving you feeling lighter, more hopeful, and perhaps a little braver. In the end, that first spark of affection was more than just a fleeting feeling. It was the foundation of something that would eventually become one of the most meaningful relationships of my life. And it all started with a simple, silent connection, one that grew with every passing day, until it became impossible to ignore.
By Jagadeeswaran Selvaraj2 years ago in Humans
