As a child, I would cry quietly, longing for someone to comfort me, to hug me when I was sad, but no one ever did. That yearning for attention, for validation, stayed with me well into adulthood. But when I met Cara, everything changed. This is the story of my journey from childhood loneliness to a love that finally saw me. --- How did I end up in this predicament? I wasn’t an angry child; I was a quiet one. There is a difference, but people rarely notice it. Anger is loud, explosive, a force that demands attention. Quietness, though—that’s what goes unnoticed. People assume you’re fine when you’re silent, that you don’t need anything. What they don’t realise is that silence can be louder than words, and that quiet kids are often the ones who scream the loudest inside. As a child, I spent hours sitting by my bedroom window, staring at the rain-soaked streets outside. The grey clouds above seemed to echo the emptiness I felt inside. My room was small, cluttered with toys and forgotten d
Story Teller | Blogging Since 2006