Sometimes they tell me: "You're so strong." But they don't see my nights. They don't hear my silence. They don't know how many words I swallow instead of asking for support.

I'm not strong. I just learned to hold my hand when no one else does. I learned to find the light, even when it's dark. I learned to smile - not because it's easy, but because it's the only way.

I'm not strong. I just know how to love, even after betrayal. To believe, even after disappointments. And to wait - not for someone perfect, but for the real one. The one who will say: "You're not alone anymore."