Astrum742 - Astrum

It's not about how long you've known someone, but about who walked into your life, said 'I'm here for you,' and proved it."

Yours Astrum.

I wish I could run to you and cry.

You don't have to say anything. You don't have to tell me it's going to be alright. Just be there. Just sit with me and let me cry. Just your presence is enough. I am just so tired. I am tired and hurt and I want everything to end.

But I know I can't. I know I can't and that hurts more.

“When you love me like gravity”

By Astrum

you don’t have to demand me — i give myself the moment your eyes soften. when you speak with quiet certainty, it feels like gravity brushing my spine — reminding me that falling is safe when it’s into you. i obey not because i must, but because you make devotion taste like freedom and love feels like breath. say stay and i will curl into your chest like a song that never wants to end. tell me wait and i will sit patiently, because i know the wait ends with your smile. you don’t break me — you hold me until all my sharp edges melt into the shape of us. with you, Obedience is not surrender. it’s coming home. again, and again, and again.

Paint

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

The artist on his pedestal place,

Dabbing his brush in paint,

Sweeping all his worries away.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

A careful mix of colours and hues,

A careful tinge of another shade,

A story that never fades.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

A bleak landscape of monochromes,

So very little tint,

A figure standing all alone.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

Lush green landscapes,

So very simple,

A doorway to escape.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

The artist on his pedestal place,

Painting a scene so lovely,

Whose model is as sweet as honey.

“come closer, but don’t flinch”

> come closer, but don’t flinch when you see the places I’ve bled quietly. I am not soft in the way you expect — I am soft like wildfire, like midnight rain that forgets to be gentle. I love like this: with cracked palms, shaking breath, and a heart too heavy to float but too stubborn to drown. if you want me, know this: I won’t promise easy, but I will promise real. raw fingertips. unhidden scars. midnight confessions no one else has ever touched. come closer. and if you stay— I’ll hand you everything I’ve ever buried under my ribs.

"So much soothing voice"

It was kind of a dick move to create animals that require air, then confine them to the freaking ocean

“I apologize for loving like wildfire”

If I loved too loudly — forgive me. If I stayed too long in the corners of your mind where you never invited me, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to love politely. I don’t know how to knock first before entering hearts. I only know how to arrive barefoot, with poems under my tongue, with eternity in my palms, with the kind of tenderness that burns more than it soothes. I only know how to stay until the walls crumble, until secrets spill soft in the dark, until skin forgets every name except mine. I apologize for loving like wildfire — but darling, no one ever taught me how to be rain. So I set myself on fire and called it devotion. And maybe that’s why people ran even when they swore they wouldn’t. Because no one wants to be loved so much it makes them see themselves naked. Not just skin — but soul, bone, all the hidden places they buried long ago. I wasn’t here to break you. I was just here to love you completely. But sometimes even that is too much.

“If you come close…”

If you come close,

I won’t ask your name first.

I’ll watch the way your eyes soften

when my voice drops lower.

I’ll let you run your fingers

through the stubble on my jaw,

but only if you understand—

I don’t kiss with lips alone.

I kiss with every unsaid word

I’ve been carrying for years.

I kiss like I’m telling secrets

no one else was patient enough to hear.

So if you come close,

don’t come to play.

Come to be devoured.

Slowly.

Thoroughly.

Like you waited your whole life

for a man who understands silence too.

Ways I Show a Character is Emotionally Burned Out (Before They Even Realize It Themselves)

I love writing characters who think they’re fine but are actually walking emotional house fires with bad coping mechanisms.

They stop doing the things they used to love and don’t even notice. Their guitar gathers dust. Their favorite podcast becomes background noise. Their hobbies feel like homework now.

They pick the path of least resistance every time, even when it hurts them. No, they don’t want to go to that thing. No, they don’t want to talk to that person. But whatever’s easier. That’s the motto now.

They’re tired but can’t sleep. Or they sleep but wake up more tired. Classic burnout move: lying in bed with their brain racing like a toddler on espresso.

They give other people emotional advice they refuse to take themselves. “You have to set boundaries!” they say—while ignoring 8 texts from someone they should’ve cut off three emotional breakdowns ago.

They cry at something stupidly small. Like spilling soup. Or a dog in a commercial. Or losing their pen. The soup is never just soup.

They say “I’m just tired” like it’s a personality trait now. And not like… emotionally drained to the bone but afraid to admit it out loud.

They ghost people they love, not out of malice, but because even replying feels like too much. Social battery? Absolutely obliterated. Texting back feels like filing taxes.

They stop reacting to big things. Catastrophes get a blank stare. Disasters feel like “just another Tuesday.” The well of feeling is running dry.

They avoid being alone with their own thoughts. Constant noise. TV always on. Music blasting. Because silence = reckoning, and reckoning is terrifying.

They start hoping something will force them to stop. An accident. A missed deadline. Someone else finally telling them, “You need a break.” Because asking for help? Unthinkable.