/u/PistachioPug's posts in /r/TwoSentenceSadness

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Only show posts with narrations

If I can't make you happy, I'm glad you've found someone who can.

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I began to heal the moment I realized that I was always going to be here in my own life, with or without you.

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Ailing in body and mind, without a dollar or a friend to my name, I whispered to myself every night before sleep, "It won't always be like this."

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I tell myself every time that this will be the happiness that lasts, this will be the joy that won't curdle and grow sour in my vitals.

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He wishes his love could be enough for her.

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Every time I post a bit of creative writing on r/TwoSentenceSadness, I get tons of sympathy from strangers.

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There are big fish in small ponds and small fish in big ponds; some are born great, some become great, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

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Wheels turn end over endless, the teeth of the gears gnaw industriously on, the smell of early blossoms wafts over the miasma of the last damp leaf-fall.

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The part of my soul that reflects his light is my favorite thing about me.

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I could tell she was the kind who would rather be kicked on purpose than stepped on by accident.

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Title	Upvotes	Mark as read	Favorited	Rating	Add to a list
If I can't make you happy, I'm glad you've found someone who can.	19
I began to heal the moment I realized that I was always going to be here in my own life, with or without you.	19
Ailing in body and mind, without a dollar or a friend to my name, I whispered to myself every night before sleep, "It won't always be like this."	19
I tell myself every time that this will be the happiness that lasts, this will be the joy that won't curdle and grow sour in my vitals.	19
He wishes his love could be enough for her.	19
Every time I post a bit of creative writing on r/TwoSentenceSadness, I get tons of sympathy from strangers.	19
There are big fish in small ponds and small fish in big ponds; some are born great, some become great, and some have greatness thrust upon them.	19
Wheels turn end over endless, the teeth of the gears gnaw industriously on, the smell of early blossoms wafts over the miasma of the last damp leaf-fall.	18
The part of my soul that reflects his light is my favorite thing about me.	18
I could tell she was the kind who would rather be kicked on purpose than stepped on by accident.	18