Die heart

These past seven weeks have been one of the hardest times of my life—for me and for my laopo. I’ve been overwhelmed with stress, confused about what’s right and what’s wrong. The values I grew up with, the things my family taught me—I always believed they were right. But now, I see that what I thought was keeping peace may have hurt the person I love most.

To her, not sharing everything feels like lying. And in her eyes, I became someone I never wanted to be—an actor, a liar. That cuts deeper than I can explain. It feels like life is making a joke out of me. I wish I could just be with my babies again, where things were simpler and filled with pure love. But I’m here instead, exhausted—physically, emotionally, spiritually.

Even my close friends don’t seem to understand. My kor tells me I shouldn’t make things worse by trying to explain myself—that I act like a hero when I should just stay quiet. Maybe he’s right. Maybe building up my wall again is the only way to survive.

But it hurts. It hurts because I still want to believe in love, in trust, in being open. And yet here I am… lost, broken, unsure of who I am anymore. Maybe the only way forward is to be myself—but with a wall so strong that nothing can break it again.